Wednesday May 27, 2009

Dave Bonta May 27, 2009

Fog. The ants who tend the peony buds have been replaced by drops of water—all but one, who moves slow as an astronaut on a strange planet.

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July 19, 2016
In the bright sun, three potter wasps are raiding the bergamot blossoms, piercing the base of each purple tube to drain the nectar.
July 19, 2015
Now that thistles are going to seed, the goldfinches are nesting at last. Two males chase—streaks of crayon-yellow through the treetops.
July 19, 2012
The sound of a hummingbird at full throttle: a male rocketing back and forth in front of the cedar tree for a hidden female audience of one.
July 19, 2011
Too humid for clothes, too buggy for bare skin. An enormous yellow bee-fly circles the tansies once, then zooms over to investigate my ear.
July 19, 2010
A woodchuck waddles down the road, pausing every few feet to poke its head into the weeds. A fawn bleats up in the laurel. The sun goes in.
July 19, 2009
A morning cold as autumn. At intervals, at the woods' edge, a red-tailed hawk, orange light, the song of a wood thrush. Here and gone.
July 19, 2008
Glancing up from a book about Papua New Guinea, I see a doe and fawn crossing the yard and passing pale as spirits between the dark trees.

The Morning Porch/Patio