The Morning Porch

September 30, 2008 by Dave Bonta

The three black locust saplings in the old corral have grown several feet since spring, and now are beginning to yellow from the inside out.

June 29, 2025
Partly cloudy, humid and still. A hen turkey clucks once from the woods’ edge. I slap myself awake, killing mosquitoes.
June 29, 2024
Heavily overcast; 88% humidity. I’m clapping out the lives of mosquitoes, one after another—too big and slow for their own good. A breeze springs up.
June 29, 2022
Cold and clear. Three waxwings join the sun high in the dead crown of a black locust, yellow bellies aglow.
June 29, 2021
Sunny and hot. The meadows hum with insects. In the marsh, a male and female goldfinch are gathering cattail down for their nest.
June 29, 2016
On the underside of a porch railing, a hornet gathers a mouthful of wood. A small yellow leaf caught in a spiderweb twirls in the wind.