Tag Archives: goldfinches

Two male towhees trade tweets from...

By Dave Bonta | Published July 22, 2010 at 7:34 am

Two male towhees trade tweets from opposite sides of the yard. At the top of the dead cherry tree, a goldfinch swivels back and forth.

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Mid-morning sun: I’m almost baking...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 23, 2010 at 9:45 am

Mid-morning sun: I’m almost baking until the wind blows, cool as midnight, the chitter of goldfinches interrupted by a raven’s cronk.

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Yellow at daybreak: forsythia, daffodils...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 5, 2010 at 7:40 am

Yellow at daybreak: forsythia, daffodils, the spicebush by the springhouse, a flock of goldfinches… what else? The sun crests the ridge.

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Goldfinches chitter in the treetops...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 3, 2009 at 8:16 am

Goldfinches chitter in the treetops. Below the porch, the first powdered-wig blooms of white snakeroot. A young hawk’s falsetto cry.

 

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Garlic tops still point at the ground...

By Dave Bonta | Published July 8, 2009 at 8:13 am

Garlic tops still point at the ground like dysfunctional minarets. Goldfinches weave through the canopy, circling the thistle-spined sun.

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Six goldfinches flip-flop-fly through...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 10, 2009 at 8:26 am

Six goldfinches flip-flop-fly through the treetops at top speed, twittering nonstop, and swoop with a loop de loop into the lilac.

 

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Sun through fog. Animals emerge and...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 15, 2009 at 9:34 am

Sun through fog. Animals emerge and vanish like actors in a play, bringing their cries and silences: goldfinches, a raven, a pair of deer.

 

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Glimpses of a tanager, a catbird, two...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 9, 2009 at 7:51 am

Glimpses of a tanager, a catbird, two goldfinches, and a hummingbird taking a shit. Each tree is still in possession of its own green.

 

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From the other house, the sound of...

By Dave Bonta | Published January 7, 2009 at 9:20 am

From the other house, the sound of an unfed avian mob. Four goldfinches land in the ice-covered tree in front of me and cock their heads.

 

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Blue sky morning. A goldfinch flock...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 26, 2008 at 8:33 am

Blue sky morning. A goldfinch flock moves down the ridge on its squeaky wheel. I’m not, I realize, an optimist; I’m in love with optimism.

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