The Morning Porch

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

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Tag Archives: downy woodpecker

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Thursday May 02, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

Two male woodpeckers rattle at each other from 100 yards apart. A carpenter bee inspects the porch, its drone a perfect generator of unease.

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Tagged carpenter bees, downy woodpecker

May·02

Thursday April 11, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

Pausing every few minutes for a lightning-quick copulation, a pair of downy woodpeckers circle a walnut tree trunk and probe its bark.

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Tagged black walnut, downy woodpecker

Apr·11

Saturday January 26, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

3

This morning’s stillness is made of fresh snow, a distant jet, the quiet squeaks of a downy woodpecker and a dove’s whistling wings.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, jet, mourning doves, snow

Jan·26

Friday January 18, 2013

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

It’s very cold; the tall locust at the woods’ edge creaks with ice. A woodpecker taps on the topmost limb, silhouetted against pink clouds.

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Tagged black locust, cold, downy woodpecker, sunrise

Jan·18

Saturday December 29, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

Snow piles up on branches, as if the white sky were descending on a chaos of ladders. Only a woodpecker’s soft tapping breaks the silence.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, snow, snowstorm

Dec·29

Monday September 10, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

A downy woodpecker lands in the dead cherry tree. She trills and the rotten limbs tremble, taps and they make hardly a sound.

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Tagged cherry tree, downy woodpecker

Sep·10

Tuesday June 05, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

Wind from a distant storm blows the leaves backwards. In lieu of thunder, a downy woodpecker’s fast rattle on a hollow limb.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, thunderstorm, wind

Jun·05

Saturday April 07, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

A downy woodpecker has found a loud limb to hammer. When the din stops, he’s with a female. That brief cloacal kiss that passes for sex.

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Tagged black locust, downy woodpecker

Apr·07

Tuesday March 27, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

5

Woodpeckers drumming at sunrise. It occurs to me that they might not be telegraphing “I am here” so much as verifying that the world is.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, sunrise

Mar·27

Monday February 27, 2012

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

A downy woodpecker gleans breakfast from the dead cherry, chirping between taps. A mackerel sky. The smell of thawed earth.

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Tagged cherry tree, downy woodpecker, thaw

Feb·27

Tuesday December 13, 2011

Posted by Dave Bonta

4

Sun through a skim of clouds. A nuthatch and a downy woodpecker trade anxious, nasal notes between the faint shadows of the trees.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, nuthatch

Dec·13

Saturday November 19, 2011

Posted by Dave Bonta

2

Bare ground in the herb bed has risen into spires—a city of frost. A downy woodpecker booms like a pileated on a hollow limb.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, frost, garden

Nov·19

Sunday November 13, 2011

Posted by Dave Bonta

4

Mid-morning, and my feet are propped on the rail as usual. A female downy woodpecker lands on my right boot and taps at the worn-down sole.

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Tagged boots, downy woodpecker

Nov·13

Saturday August 27, 2011

Posted by Dave Bonta

0

A downy woodpecker lands on the dead elm, his black-and-white feathers against the barkless trunk as startling and dramatic as a totem pole.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, elm

Aug·27

Saturday August 13, 2011

Posted by Dave Bonta

1

Darkening sky. A downy woodpecker gleaning breakfast from the dead cherry’s flaking limbs pauses to scratch his face with one fast foot.

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Tagged cherry tree, downy woodpecker

Aug·13

Sunday February 13, 2011

Posted by Dave Bonta

12

To the south, the hysterical-sounding whoops of a pileated woodpecker. To the north, the rapid taps of a downy, that tachycardia.

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Tagged downy woodpecker, pileated woodpecker

Feb·13

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On this date

  • May 23, 2012
    The first peony, which opened yesterday, is too small to topple from the weight of rain. It merely tilts its flushed face toward the woods.
  • May 23, 2011
    Overcast and damp. The yellow centers of fleabane flowers, closed for the night, are beginning to peek through their spiralled white lashes.
  • May 23, 2010
    Light rain. A female towhee carries load after load of dead grass into a rosebush while a yearling male redstart sings and noshes in the treetops.
  • May 23, 2009
    The lilacs are fading fast. Where did the spring go? A hummingbird moth pays court to the dame's-rockets—the new avatars of purple scent.
  • May 23, 2008
    The gibbous moon no sooner clears the trees than the sun comes up. First crystal-clear morning in weeks, and I'm off to New Jersey.

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