The Morning Porch

A thousand blemishes sparkle on the...

Dave Bonta — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 16:59:49 +0000

A thousand blemishes sparkle on the side of the white porch column perpendicular to the sun. A red-bellied woodpecker trills and trills.

Dave Bonta — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 16:30:28 +0000

A wool-gray sky. This is not the blue morning we were promised! But tell it to the bluebirds warbling above the garage.

Dave Bonta — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 13:22:30 +0000

Is it overcast or sunny, warm or cold? I don’t even notice. The line crew is back, and they’ve chainsawed the top off a dwarf pear tree.

Dave Bonta — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 14:40:26 +0000

Loggers clearing trees along the powerline: chainsaws scream, then drop to a low growl. The soft thump of a tree hitting the ground.

Dave Bonta — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 14:16:24 +0000

Dark clouds part in the west, flooding the yard at sunrise with sunset light. A log furred with white fungi glows in the snow-free woods.

Dave Bonta — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 16:09:06 +0000

Walnut tree branches behind the house rock by turns, as if from the passage of some large animal, but it’s only this warm-blooded wind.

Dave Bonta — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 17:23:17 +0000

Where the fresh snow has just melted on the concrete walkway, a bright green blush of lichen. The nuthatch’s three nasal notes.

Dave Bonta — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 13:26:27 +0000

This could be March, were it not for the late, slow-rising sun. The powerline right-of-way is a band of yellow light through the dark woods.

Dave Bonta — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 14:54:27 +0000

The snow is reduced to patches now, and the stream runs loud. The book I’m reading says there’s no such thing as a pure white horse.

Dave Bonta — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 13:02:07 +0000

The white flame of a deer’s tail bobs among the laurel. Another doe shakes her head, flinging rain water in all directions.