The Morning Porch

The view from my front porch every morning, in 140 or fewer characters

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Tag Archives: crows

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Friday April 26, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

The fierce cries of a male kestrel climbing, fluttering and diving over the corner of the field. A crow hurries over to harass it.

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Tagged crows, hawks, kestrel

Apr·26

Thursday April 25, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

A series of high-pitched howls from down in the hollow: coyotes or children? It’s hard to tell. I watch a silent, nearly motionless crow.

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Tagged coyote, crows, neighbors

Apr·25

Monday March 18, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

A crow lands in a treetop and keeps flapping its wings, as if bathing in the falling snow. As I watch, a friend watches me, making a sketch.

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Tagged crows, snow

Mar·18

Monday January 07, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

Overcast, with a smell of burning plastic in the air. Half-way up the ridge, two crows move about in the treetops without making a sound.

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Tagged air pollution, crows

Jan·07

Friday December 28, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

Fire sirens. A wren’s burble. In a tree at the woods’ edge, two crows jeering a raven fall silent when it flies right over their heads.

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Tagged Carolina wren, crows, raven, sirens

Dec·28

Wednesday December 19, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

A brown creeper ascends the trunk of a walnut tree, its jerky scuttling more insect-like than avian. Up on the ridge, a furious mob of crows.

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Tagged black walnut, brown creeper, crows

Dec·19

Friday December 07, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

By 11:00, the freezing rain has stopped and the rain of melting ice is underway—the woods are a-rattle with it. A crow won’t stop yelling.

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Tagged crows, freezing rain, icestorm

Dec·07

Friday November 30, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

After weeks of near-absence, crows call and quarrel in all directions. It must be the gut piles, venison viscera festering among the leaves.

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Tagged crows, deer, hunters

Nov·30

Thursday October 18, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

Four crows around the houses are voicing loud displeasure at something or other. I hear bemusement in the croak of a raven high overhead.

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Tagged crows, raven

Oct·18

Wednesday August 15, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

4

cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket CROW CROW CROW cricket cricket cricket crick

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Tagged crickets, crows

Aug·15

Saturday April 28, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

Cold and overcast. Up above the blossoming hawthorn, three crows walk back and forth on the forest floor as if searching for a lost trinket.

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Tagged crows, hawthorn

Apr·28

Thursday April 19, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

5

The green blush deepens on the hillside; shining motes of pollen speckle my laptop screen. A crow flaps up from the black currant bushes.

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Tagged black currants, crows, pollen

Apr·19

Tuesday April 03, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

An old strand of caterpillar silk at the wood’s edge shimmers in the sun. A crow keeps saying something urgent in four syllables.

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Tagged caterpillars, crows

Apr·03

Saturday February 18, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

The sun glints off periwinkle leaves in the yard where snow has just melted. All sounds come from a great distance: crow, woodpecker, train.

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Tagged crows, myrtle, pileated woodpecker, snow, train

Feb·18

Tuesday February 14, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

This morning it’s the titmouse’s turn to sing his spring song—an ode to tedium. I’m grateful when it’s drowned out by a mob of crows.

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Tagged crows, tufted titmouse

Feb·14

Tuesday February 07, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

The deep, soulful croak of a raven high above the ridge, side by side with its mate, heading east. Far behind them, a rabble of crows.

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Tagged crows, raven

Feb·07

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On this date

  • May 20, 2012
    Six nuthatches—parents and fledglings—scour the trees from top to bottom, soft calls communicating who knows what instructive tidbits.
  • May 20, 2011
    Each glaucous leaf of the bleeding-heart has rolled its rain into one fat bead. I'm wondering: where have all the wood thrushes gone?
  • May 20, 2010
    So clear, even the mourning dove sounds joyful. Muffled thuds of a pileated in a dead tree, knocking—as Rumi would say—from the inside.
  • May 20, 2009
    A new birdsong at sunrise: "Pleased pleased pleased to MEETcha!" Likewise, I mutter, trying to place the name. Ah—chestnut-sided warbler.
  • May 20, 2008
    A gray squirrel seems to be in heat: as in January, the slow-motion chases, the soft scold-calls, but now mostly hidden by the leaves.

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Detail from Paper Garden by Clive Hicks-Jenkins (used by permission)

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New Year's 2011 self-portrait on the porch
on the porch, 1/1/2011
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