The Morning Porch

April 10, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Twenty minutes after the feral cat disappeared under the porch, the squirrel still scolds. Rain is a soft patter of lead shot—or so I wish.

February 11, 2025
Heavily overcast at sunrise. A meadow vole is busy with home improvement, popping out of the ground every minute or two to gather stiltgrass.
February 11, 2024
Very still under a bone-white sky. A Carolina wren rummages under the house. In the treetops a gray squirrel takes an improbable leap.
February 11, 2023
Bright and cold. I pull down my hat brim to see the shadows of the trees striping my yard. Valley noise is minimal but for…
February 11, 2022
Crystal-clear. As the temperature climbs and the snowpack softens, the sun’s glare softens a little, too. A large winter gnat sails past.
February 11, 2021
Another four inches of light powder. We are rich in snow now. The soundtrack is mostly woodpeckers: downy, pileated, red-bellied.