The sun behind a wash of cirrus seems almost approachable: a bonfire, the eye of a wolf. All the small birds of winter calling at once.
The view from my front porch every morning, in 140 or fewer characters
Monthly Archives: December 2007
Distant sound of a rasp on wood: the...
Distant sound of a rasp on wood: the porcupine’s last meal of the night. In the springhouse lawn, the silhouette of a cat taking a shit.
Tagged porcupine, springhouse
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With the ground white, squirrels are...
With the ground white, squirrels are visible hundreds of feet up in the woods. And when I shut my eyes, the trees reappear on my eyelids.
Tagged gray squirrel
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Blue sky carved up by the ley lines...
Blue sky carved up by the ley lines of industrial man. Who else leaves such arrow-strait trails for mile after mile? Only Coyote.
Fresh snow curls in a graceful wave...
Fresh snow curls in a graceful wave behind each tire of the first car to go down the driveway. Minutes later, the whine of a car in reverse.
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A lull in the storm, and it’s...
A lull in the storm, and it’s quiet—no sound of trucks or trains, no Sunday drivers. Squirrel scold-calls echo off the ice.
Tagged gray squirrel, trucks
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The sun peeks out for half a minute...
The sun peeks out for half a minute from under a lid of clouds. The downy woodpecker finds a resonant bone of locust and rattles it hard.
Tagged downy woodpecker
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Riddle me this: no snow fell here,...
Riddle me this: no snow fell here, but the ground is white. The trees with their thin coats of ice creak and clatter in the darkness.
Tickticktick—sleet slipping through...
Tickticktick—sleet slipping through the forest’s net of twigs. Grains with no hourglass, a rush order for all who dream of the beach.
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Last night, I watched a meteor blaze...
Last night, I watched a meteor blaze across a hole in the white clouds. This morning, a full palette of grays. The local star peeks through.
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