The Morning Porch

Dave Bonta March 12, 2008

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

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

December 8, 2023
The moon’s bright bowl full of darkness rises through the trees at dawn and vanishes into clouds. Two great-horned owls on the valley side of…
December 8, 2022
A late-morning brightness in the clouds. A white-breasted nuthatch descending a tall black locust turns right-side-up.
December 8, 2021
Rising late, what have I missed? The sky is white and the air is dead still. There’s no snow. The usual birds are making their…
December 8, 2020
Bright sun, icy breeze. A few flakes zoom past. The only cloud is tiny and dissolves as I watch, leaving the sky to the fourth-quarter…
December 8, 2019
Soft light on the hard frost: more glimmer than glitter. A pileated woodpecker’s kak kak kak like a high-pitched engine trying to start.