Tag Archives: springhouse

Beside the springhouse, the twittering...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 25, 2009 at 9:22 am

Beside the springhouse, the twittering zoom of a hummingbird’s courtship dive: from sunlight into cattail shadows and back. Tanager song.

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Soft applause from the road bank: a...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 22, 2009 at 8:07 am

Soft applause from the road bank: a doe’s ears flapping as she shakes her head to chase away the flies.

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Soft taps from a burdock leaf under...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 26, 2009 at 7:04 am

Soft taps from a burdock leaf under the drip line: it’s raining. A rose-breasted grosbeak drops into the springhouse marsh to get a drink.

 

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A phoebe hovers beside its nest under...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 16, 2009 at 7:37 am

A phoebe hovers beside its nest under the springhouse eaves, then lands above it, bug still in beak, tail like a tapping foot: ah, marriage.

 

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Clear and cold at sunrise. The feral...

By Dave Bonta | Published March 13, 2009 at 7:47 am

Clear and cold at sunrise. The feral cat slinks across the springhouse meadow. Muffled sounds of a squirrel scolding from inside its drey.

 

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Two white-tailed deer leap through...

By Dave Bonta | Published November 12, 2008 at 9:36 am

Two white-tailed deer leap through the dried goldenrod and asters beyond the springhouse, surfacing, diving—dolphins in a brown sea.

 

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Carolina wrens counter-singing from...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 27, 2008 at 8:17 am

Carolina wrens counter-singing from the springhouse, her Zzzzit! simultaneous with his TeakettleTeakettleTeakettle: the sound of the steam.

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The air is still and quiet. In the...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 22, 2008 at 7:33 am

The air is still and quiet. In the springhouse meadow, the ears of a doe appear above the goldenrod, pivoting like leaves in a private wind.

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A crashing sound from the springhouse...

By Dave Bonta | Published July 26, 2008 at 6:47 am

A crashing sound from the springhouse meadow: a pair of bucks chasing each other, frisky as fawns and neck-deep in weeds they do not eat.

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A fawn follows its mother through the...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 22, 2008 at 8:24 am

A fawn follows its mother through the springhouse meadow, spots like stars on a pelt dark with moisture from the sopping-wet vegetation.

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