Thursday February 26, 2009

Dave Bonta February 26, 2009

I keep hearing fragments of song—winter wren, bluebird, song sparrow—and the usual tight flock of siskins in a walnut tree going zzzzzzip.

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

A skim of wet snow came in with the cold front. The big dial thermometer shivers on the wall—vibrations from the furnace under the floor. …

The trees are turning silver and beginning to droop with the weight of freezing rain. A few juncos, undaunted, are bathing in the stream. …

Despite the temperature—two degrees above freezing—a half dozen small insects dance above a branch at the woods' edge, back-lit by the sun. …

The freezing rain stops by mid-morning, but the low cloud cover persists. From the valley to the east, the sound of semi-automatic gunfire. …

A thin spot in the clouds passing over the sun gives the tulip tree at the woods' edge an aureole for its suddenly dramatic, upraised limbs. …

The rain-soaked forest shines in the sun. Two chipmunks are calling, and at first I mistake their metronomes for dripping water. …

Parallel lines of arrows where a sparrow hopped through the new snow. The sharp-edged shadows of the trees are a blacker blue than the sky. …

Snowflakes swirl past the porch; the trees twist and sway. High, thin notes of a white-throated sparrow. A raven croaks twice. …

The ground is still saturated from Tuesday's rain. Through the hole in my yard, the sound of the underground stream's insurgent song. …

The sun peeks through windows of deep blue. I watch a crow flying silently from tree to tree as another crow follows, pecking and jeering. …

Rain and fog with raven: silent, just above the treetops. White-throated sparrows and a freight train whistling at the same pitch. …

Mid-morning, and many of the feeder birds are sitting quietly in the treetops, silhouetted against the whitening sky. Bright smudge of sun. …

Last night, the ground sparkled; now it's the color of moonlight forgotten by the moon. A chickadee lands on the lawn and has a taste. …

The Morning Porch/Patio