A hummingbird grooms itself in the middle of a downpour while a phoebe plucks insects from the side of the dead elm, hovering in place.
Monthly Archives: June 2009
Another dark morning. The wood pewee...
Another dark morning. The wood pewee makes a rare visit to the edge of the yard, sings one, sad note, and snaps a brown moth out of the air.
The black-robed cowbird at the top...
The black-robed cowbird at the top of the dead elm burbles authoritatively, like the Grand Ayatollah of the yard taking credit for the rain.
Breezy, overcast, a spit of rain—...
Breezy, overcast, a spit of rain—these reports never seem complete without the weather. The buzz of a hummingbird. A common yellowthroat.
A robin refurbishing an old nest lands...
A robin refurbishing an old nest lands each time on the lowest branch and labors up the ladder of limbs with his beakful of dead grass.
A golden light straight out of the...
A golden light straight out of the Kabbalah, where two angels attend every grass blade—one singing like a vireo, the other, a quarry truck.
In the half-light, the soft crunch...
In the half-light, the soft crunch of gravel: a bear-shaped shadow ambles up the road, turns onto my walk, stops in front of my door. Waits.
Gray sky. The lilac catbird lands beside...
Gray sky. The lilac catbird lands beside the porch to scold me, as if it had just become aware of my presence. Its young must’ve fledged.
The sky is pretending to be blue, but...
The sky is pretending to be blue, but I don’t buy it. A hummingbird may land on a dead branch, but that’s the only green it’s going to get.
The leaves of a yellow dock plant next...
The leaves of a yellow dock plant next to the porch have curled like tongues into makeshift shelters for hundreds of tiny, hungry guests.
