Tag Archives: black locust

Rain and fog. A pileated woodpecker...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 13, 2011 at 11:34 am

Rain and fog. A pileated woodpecker performs invasive surgery on a locust tree next to the springhouse, removing a malignant colony of ants.

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A violently shaking black walnut branch...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 26, 2011 at 12:09 pm

A violently shaking black walnut branch passes its affliction to an adjacent locust: gray squirrel with an unripe walnut between its teeth.

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A pileated woodpecker heading for the...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 15, 2011 at 9:20 am

A pileated woodpecker heading for the tall locusts lets out a whoop with every wingbeat, its crest like the bloody barb of a harpoon.

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A perfect morning, clear and cool....

By Dave Bonta | Published July 26, 2011 at 7:31 am

A perfect morning, clear and cool. A gray squirrel is biting off small branches and carrying them into the thickest part of the tall locust.

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The rapid scrabble of claws on bark...

By Dave Bonta | Published March 27, 2011 at 10:30 am

The rapid scrabble of claws on bark, that waterfall sound. Three chasing squirrels spiral down the big locust like an animated barber pole.

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Dawn. In absolute silence, a pileated...

By Dave Bonta | Published November 20, 2010 at 7:18 am

Dawn. In absolute silence, a pileated woodpecker hitches its way up a locust trunk, silhouette pivoting like a pawl on an invisible ratchet.

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When the fog lifts, a flock of chickadees...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 26, 2010 at 9:17 am

When the fog lifts, a flock of chickadees moves in, foraging in the mid-canopy, precipitating a shower of birch and locust leaves.

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Halfway to the ground, a locust leaf...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 22, 2010 at 8:37 am

Halfway to the ground, a locust leaf reverses course and heads for the sky. The cattails whisper, a restive crowd, but the sun never comes.

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The black locusts are beginning to...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 14, 2010 at 8:29 am

The black locusts are beginning to yellow as the black birches beside them deepen to orange, alive with kinglets and glowing in the rain.

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The corpse of a moth flaps upside-down...

By Dave Bonta | Published September 10, 2010 at 8:29 am

The corpse of a moth flaps upside-down against the column. Beyond the springhouse, a broken branch dangles—the leaves’ pale undersides.

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