9/14/2017

Dave Bonta September 14, 2017

Small birds flit through the tops of the locust trees—migrating warblers, no doubt. Birds of passage. Every now and then the cricket pauses.

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9/14/2017

May 8, 2023
If ever there were a morning to freeze in time forever, this would be it: this quality of light. The converse of wind with new…
9/14/2017

May 8, 2022
A wet and shining woods stippled with burst buds. Over the rush of the creek, a cerulean warbler’s buzzy love song to the sky.
9/14/2017

May 8, 2021
A mid-morning pause in the rain. The towhee attacks a catbird gathering dead grass under the lilac, driving it off, then sings in triumph.
9/14/2017

May 8, 2020
Cold rain getting harder. The Carolina wren’s “tea kettle” call never seemed more appropriate. The catbird lisps and buzzes like a warbler.
9/14/2017

May 8, 2019
Sunny and cool. My lily-of-the-valley bed is in full bloom—an exclusive, be-jeweleried crowd wearing the scent of nearby cypress spurge.
9/14/2017

May 8, 2018
The yellowthroat’s song is half submerged in noise from the quarry. A heron flies over. I watch my breath drift away toward the east.
9/14/2017

May 8, 2017
‪A hairy woodpecker loudly inspects the woods’ edge. In the clear, cold air, the half-grown leaves are aglow—almost too green to believe.‬
9/14/2017

May 8, 2016
Clear and windy after a week of damp weather. Down by the stream, one or two mayapple flowers peek out from under their crowd of…
9/14/2017

May 8, 2015
The old crabapple next to the springhouse is in full bloom, a mass of shocking pink abuzz with insects. The sharp snap of a phoebe’s…
9/14/2017

May 8, 2014
From just above the ridge, the tremolo call of a loon. I rush to the edge of the porch and scan the lake-blue fissures between…

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

9/14/2017