The Morning Porch

December 3, 2008 by Dave Bonta

Out before dawn, I hear the crunch of boots up in the woods. It stops. All over the mountain, hunters are sitting silently in the trees.

March 8, 2025
Half an inch of wet snow has turned things white again, if not for long: the wind blows clumps of snow from the trees. The…
March 8, 2024
After a bright sunrise, the clouds move in, one settling among the trees. The creek sounds more sober now, and here and there, the grass…
March 8, 2023
Moon low in the west, as bright as a searchlight. Two silent crows fly over the house. The clouds’ bellies begin to glow.
March 8, 2022
Back to more typical March weather, gloomy and cold. The stream gurgles low, the wren gurgles high, and two crows wing their way in silence…
March 8, 2021
Cardinal song from the woods’ edge, but where’s the cardinal? Leaving the porch, I spot him—in a yard tree. I’d been listening to the echo.