The dog statue in the yard is still buried except for its vigilant tail. On either side, the excavations of deer.
The view from my front porch every morning, in 140 or fewer characters
Monthly Archives: February 2010
I strain to hear the waking birds,...
I strain to hear the waking birds, but sound is out of the west: cars, trucks, winter tires—the fossil-fueled Fat Tuesday that never ends.
Fine powder on the wind. The locust...
Fine powder on the wind. The locust tree at the woods’ edge is suddenly full of creaks, like a lapsed Trappist relearning how to talk.
Tagged black locust
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Bright midmorning. Among the shadows...
Bright midmorning. Among the shadows in my yard, one patch of light that’s almost barren of sparkles: reflection from a second-story window.
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Gray mid-morning, and the sound of...
Gray mid-morning, and the sound of bells comes and goes on the wind. A downy woodpecker telegraphs his hunger from a limb of the big maple.
Tagged downy woodpecker
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My eyes water from lack of sleep, and...
My eyes water from lack of sleep, and the sun too looks bleary, shining through clouds. A sudden loud sigh from the vicinity of the pines.
Tagged pines
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A silent ordnance drifting on the wind...
A silent ordnance drifting on the wind crumbles on impact against my legs. I suddenly realize I haven’t heard a Carolina wren in weeks.
Tagged Carolina wren
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Foot-deep drifts across the porch,...
Foot-deep drifts across the porch, and the western ridge is plastered white. Above the snow-banshees, I hear blue jays calling.
Wind-whipped snow. I imagine a pep-...
Wind-whipped snow. I imagine a pep-talk in the cloud nursery: You’re a star! You’re unique! And no mention of gray mounds in a parking lot.
Tagged snowflakes, snowstorm
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The soft trills of a screech owl an...
The soft trills of a screech owl an hour before dawn. I sip my coffee as quietly as I can.
Tagged coffee, screech owl
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