The Morning Porch

December 19, 2008 by Dave Bonta

Sleet to rain to sleet to rain: the tapping on the roof above my head keeps changing pitch. Faint notes of chickadees, titmice, a nuthatch.

June 13, 2025
Breezy and cool, with the sun guttering in cirrus. Over the course of an hour, I swat an astonishing diversity of small flies and gnats. It’s good to feel wanted, I suppose.
June 13, 2024
A crow gurgling in dispute to the east, a jake-breaking truck to the west… the wood thrush with his pure, bell-like notes gets no respect.
June 13, 2022
An odor from my childhood: the humid oak forest of my grandparents’ South Jersey yard. A chipmunk dashes under my chair.
June 13, 2021
Sunrise past, the last of the night-time moths are fluttering up under the leaves. A sound like the forest drawing a breath.
June 13, 2020
Crystal-clear and cool. A leaf-footed bug squats atop the dial thermometer, unmoving over the “50” even as the pointer inches toward 60.