The Morning Porch

May 2, 2008 by Dave Bonta

Two Jurassic-like things, both of them “great”: the call of a great-crested flycatcher, and seconds later, a great blue heron in flight.

November 2, 2025
Clear and cold. The sun pops up—the pea in our daylight-savings shell game. A screech owl begins to trill.
November 2, 2024
A screech owl trilling just before sunrise sets the small birds off. The forsythia at the woods’ edge is once again yellow. The clouds turn red.
November 2, 2023
25F at sunrise. A ruffed grouse—the first I’ve seen since last winter—flushes from under the lilac. Perhaps the population is beginning to recover from West Nile Virus? I relish the small thunder of its wings.
November 2, 2022
Sun through a scrim of cloud. From within a flame-leaved barberry bush, the crisp ticking of a junco.
November 2, 2021
Two degrees above freezing with a dull gray sky—very Novemberish. Except the trees aren’t bare, the oaks yet to reach their peak of color.