The Morning Porch

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

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Tag Archives: deer

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Saturday March 16, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

During a lull in the snow, our neighbor drives past on the tractor. A deer leaps up from a patch of laurel, runs a few steps and stops.

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Tagged deer, mountain laurel, neighbors, snow, tractor

Mar·16

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 November 22, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

A deer under the lilac glows strangely in the sunlight refracted from my bedroom window. The waxy myrtle leaves crackle between her teeth.

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Tagged deer, lilac, myrtle

Nov·22

Tuesday October 23, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

A series of loud sneezes from the dead goldenrod at the woods’ edge where a deer must be bedded down. A junco forages in the stiltgrass.

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Tagged deer, goldenrod, Japanese stiltgrass, juncos

Oct·23

Monday October 22, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

A breeze carries leaves from the dark woods to spiral down into the sunlit yard. A deer feeds on the lilac—the only remaining greenery.

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Tagged deer, fall foliage, lilac

Oct·22

Saturday October 20, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

Two antlerless deer pass the porch ten minutes apart, each grunting anxiously. Gray-brown now, they almost vanish into the dead goldenrod.

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Tagged deer, goldenrod

Oct·20

Sunday September 09, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

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Scattered drips of dew from the top roof. A doe and fawn ghost by along the woods’ edge, the fawn’s spots as faded as snakeroot flowers.

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Tagged deer, dew, snakeroot

Sep·09

Tuesday September 04, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

Another dark, humid morning. A deer comes crashing through the laurel, turns and doubles back, as if trying to shake her entourage of flies.

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Tagged deer, deerflies, mountain laurel

Sep·04

Thursday August 16, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

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Red leaves in the yard—the red of spring rather than autumn. The multiflora rose, pruned once again by passing deer, struggles to re-leaf.

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Tagged deer, multiflora rose

Aug·16

Wednesday August 08, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

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A half-grown fawn, no mother in sight, wanders through the foxtail millet and into the woods, its fading spots glimmering in the deep shade.

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Tagged deer, foxtail millet

Aug·08

Wednesday July 25, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

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Cloudless and cool. The only cricket sound is a low murmur. From up in the woods, the distant crashing of deer running through the laurel.

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Tagged crickets, deer, mountain laurel

Jul·25

Friday July 20, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

A deer leaps and twists in the tall grass to elude a fly, his damp pelt pale as a salmon, hoarse breathing just audible above the rain.

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Tagged deer, horse fly, rain

Jul·20

Saturday July 07, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

A fawn among the wild garlic: the white tops continue in the spots of its coat. Later, a hummingbird at the beebalm: matching red throats.

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Tagged deer, hummingbird, wild garlic

Jul·07

Thursday June 28, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

5

The plaintive bleat of a left-behind fawn. A pearl crescent butterfly explores my palm with its proboscis, reading between the lines.

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Tagged deer, pearl crescent

Jun·28

Monday June 25, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

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Cool and clearing. Three deer chase through the meadow, coats sleek with dew, bounding high to glimpse each other through the tall weeds.

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Tagged deer

Jun·25

Friday June 15, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

Just like yesterday the clear light, the mid-morning doe with her fawn. But today there’s a second fawn, prancing, kicking up its heels.

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Tagged deer

Jun·15

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