Tag Archives: porcupine

The bottom half of the porcupine-girdled...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 24, 2009 at 7:30 am

The bottom half of the porcupine-girdled cherry tree is in bloom; the top is lifeless. You’d think the news would travel from the ground up.

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Back below freezing. The word breeze...

By Dave Bonta | Published March 12, 2009 at 10:13 am

Back below freezing. The word breeze no longer fits the low winds, full of bite and lightly salted with snow.

 

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Just past sunrise, the powerline is...

By Dave Bonta | Published February 17, 2009 at 10:24 am

Just past sunrise, the powerline is a tongue of light off through the woods. A heavy contrail drifts toward the sun like a deepening frown.

 

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I watch a porcupine waddling toward...

By Dave Bonta | Published February 10, 2009 at 10:15 am

I watch a porcupine waddling toward the porch in my camcorder’s small screen, how the spines move as its fat flesh jiggles. Rain on the way.

 

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The ice is all gone, but the cedar...

By Dave Bonta | Published December 20, 2008 at 9:32 am

The ice is all gone, but the cedar next to my side door still leans away from the house at a 30-degree angle, like a giant green erection.

 

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Patter of rain from a leaden sky. Mouth...

By Dave Bonta | Published December 4, 2008 at 8:00 am

Patter of rain from a leaden sky. Mouth-shaped wounds on the cherry tree where the porcupine chewed it—by far the brightest spots of color.

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Last night, I almost stepped on the...

By Dave Bonta | Published March 12, 2008 at 10:12 am

Last night, I almost stepped on the porcupine—it could barely walk. This morning, on the cherry tree beside the porch, bright yellow wounds.

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Gray sky at sunrise. The porcupine...

By Dave Bonta | Published February 17, 2008 at 8:02 am

Gray sky at sunrise. The porcupine is late; I watch it coming from a long way off. It pauses to chew on the porch—no taste like home!

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Barely audible over the stream: claws...

By Dave Bonta | Published February 8, 2008 at 6:47 am

Barely audible over the stream: claws on bark, slow footsteps. A porcupine’s round shadow crosses the yard and squeezes under the porch.

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Distant sound of a rasp on wood: the...

By Dave Bonta | Published December 20, 2007 at 11:20 am

Distant sound of a rasp on wood: the porcupine’s last meal of the night. In the springhouse lawn, the silhouette of a cat taking a shit.

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