Bruce Shanks (1908-1980)

[inscription reads] " Sept 25, 1914. / A haze-choked morning. A cool air, tho (sic) smoke & haze seem to have a peculiar warmth. / There is no horizon. / Leisurely dapply clouds, yellow edged against the blue. Crinkled leaves patch the street like scum on a river. Faint robin-warbles as tho (sic) the leaves made music as they fell. / Thru (sic) a network of office windows I can see a row of poplars down Depot. Blued by distance I can so no distinct trees, only the sparkles, that now disap- "