Tuesday May 05, 2009

Dave Bonta May 5, 2009

All these songs I haven’t heard for nine months—it’s like a recurring dream in which birds from the tropics suddenly show up in our woods.

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July 22, 2016
A desiccated earthworm has somehow appeared on the garden walk despite the drought. It twitches, pulled back and forth by gangs of ants.
July 22, 2015
A rare fine day—everything's so clear, so bright! An enormous horsefly lands on my leg and for a long moment I study the blade in its mouth.
July 22, 2012
Even in flight, the cuckoos skulk: two pairs of thin wings as fast and silent as a burglar's gloves. A small red beetle circles the yard.
July 22, 2011
A question mark butterfly lands on the porch and begins tasting the wood. Its wings open, a brown leaf turning back time to fiery autumn.
July 22, 2010
Two male towhees trade tweets from opposite sides of the yard. At the top of the dead cherry tree, a goldfinch swivels back and forth.
July 22, 2009
Gray and misty. A common yellowthroat keeps caroling back to a Carolina wren, until I have trouble remembering which "witchedy" is which.
July 22, 2008
Cool and misty—everything drips. A bumblebee clings to the underside of a bergamot bract; on the topside, an equally motionless ant.

The Morning Porch/Patio