A gray, cold morning. The rusty-hinge scolding of a squirrel multiplies and turns into a flock of grackles, pivoting on its thousand wings.
The view from my front porch every morning, in 140 or fewer characters
Monthly Archives: September 2008
Gold is spreading from the goldenrod...
Gold is spreading from the goldenrod up into the trees, here and there: walnut, elm, birch. A jay dives into the lilac: blue from the sky.
In the pre-dawn dark, a patch of moonlight...
In the pre-dawn dark, a patch of moonlight appears for a few seconds on the end of the porch. A cricket’s one-string fiddle, slow and thin.
Tagged crickets
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Clear, cold, the kind of morning where...
Clear, cold, the kind of morning where you can hear for miles, noisy with cars, trucks, trains, jets, and chipmunks standing their ground.
Up too early, I sit out front and watch...
Up too early, I sit out front and watch the full moon moving in and out of thin clouds: moments of clarity interspersed with bleariness.
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Where daffodils bloomed in April, goldenrod...
Where daffodils bloomed in April, goldenrod sways—a more worldly yellow. The distant hurricane makes a roosting monarch flap its wings.
Tagged daffodils, goldenrod, hurricane, monarch butterfly
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Pulling rampant stiltgrass out of the...
Pulling rampant stiltgrass out of the garden next to the porch to create a spot for a potted yellow mum, I uncover the jawbone of a horse.
Tagged garden
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If this were my first dawn here, I...
If this were my first dawn here, I might startle at the white faces in the darkness: snakeroot. The familiar cries of a bird I cannot name.
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A warm night. With no inversion layer...
A warm night. With no inversion layer, dawn comes quietly except for the ever-present crickets. A patter of rain approaches and retreats.
Tagged crickets
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5:30. The black cat is only distinguishable...
5:30. The black cat is only distinguishable by its movement up the driveway, and only if I focus a little to the side. The sound of engines.
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