6/17/2015

Dave Bonta June 17, 2015

A squirrel stymied in crossing the porch by my unexpected presence approaches warily, watching me the way a farmer watches the weather.

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6/17/2015

April 23, 2023
Cool and damp at sunrise. A small cottontail grazes at the woods’ edge: a salad of tiny leaves. A gnatcatcher’s soft soliloquy.
6/17/2015

April 23, 2022
A 30-second rain. I count nine shades of green, all circled by a cardinal in his flame-colored cap. The daffodils once again stand erect.
6/17/2015

April 23, 2021
Bright sun. High in the tulip tree, among the shining leaf nubbins, two robins meet for combat and tumble to the ground.
6/17/2015

April 23, 2020
Rising late, I sit gazing at the blank white sky and recalling my dreams: Mom turned into a zombie, stove possessed by demons, me applying…
6/17/2015

April 23, 2019
The first cabbage whites of spring! said no one ever. But their mad pas de deux is as full of zest as the tiger beetle…
6/17/2015

April 23, 2018
Two blue-gray gnatcatchers take turns sallying forth from the lilac, zigzagging, hovering to hoover their namesake prey from the cool air.
6/17/2015

April 23, 2017
‪I sit with my feet propped on the top railing as usual. A chickadee with a beak full of grass lands on my boots and…
6/17/2015

April 23, 2016
The black birches are in blossom—gray catkins dangling like understated feather boas. Nothing like the wild pear tree’s blaring white.
6/17/2015

April 23, 2015
Scattered snowflakes. On the back slope, a gray tabby cat is stalking voles, head swiveling to follow each ripple of wind in the grass.
6/17/2015

April 23, 2014
Cold winds stir the leaves on the forest floor in lieu of anything better. A towhee seeks the shelter of the lilac for her own…

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

6/17/2015