A squirrel running on the roof above my head: the rhythm of hoofbeats in the paintings of horses from when they were still thought to bound.
May 2009
5/30/2009
5/29/2009
5/28/2009
Pale bones of the dead elm, standing at the edge of the yard like an emissary from Lent amidst a Mardi Gras of green, reach into fog.
5/27/2009
5/26/2009
5/25/2009
Heavy traffic on the driveway: a baby bunny races back and forth, followed by a strolling pair of catbirds and a robin’s methodical hop.
5/24/2009
For an hour now, the red-bellied woodpecker has been trilling almost non-stop: half yell, half peal. Fleabane blooms beside the sidewalk.
5/23/2009
The lilacs are fading fast. Where did the spring go? A hummingbird moth pays court to the dame’s-rockets—the new avatars of purple scent.
5/22/2009
5/21/2009
A female indigo bunting drops into the cherry tree to snack on tiny tent caterpillars, reaching daintily into their vase-shaped nest.