July 3, 2009 by Dave Bonta A low, leaden sky. Leaves blow backwards. A robin on a dead branch at the edge of the yard turns to face the woods. Share on social media Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
July 2, 2009 by Dave Bonta Sitting in great discomfort due to a sprained back, I regard a deer-stripped black raspberry cane, naked except for its thorns. Share on social media Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
July 1, 2009 by Dave Bonta Everything drips; I don’t notice that the rain has stopped until the sun comes out. A burst of song from phoebe, catbird and Carolina wren. Share on social media Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads