Wednesday December 02, 2009

Dave Bonta December 2, 2009

Cold, gray morning. I inventory the remaining spots of green: moss, grass, mountain laurel, pine, a rosette of thistle outlined in frost.

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On this date

December 19, 2017
The snow nearly vanished overnight, and the bare patches of moss are shockingly green. The pines sigh and whisper like strangers at a party. …
December 19, 2016
January has come early: the icy snowpack hard as a brick, a squirrel already in heat. A pursuing male pauses to groom his face and genitals. …
December 19, 2014
Overcast and dreary. The neighbor's rooster is drowned out by a train, its air horn blowing an almost perfect minor chord. …
December 19, 2013
Dimples stipple the snow below the porch where icicles dripped. Sparrow tracks circle a dame's-rocket seed-head bent down by the last storm. …
December 19, 2012
A brown creeper ascends the trunk of a walnut tree, its jerky scuttling more insect-like than avian. Up on the ridge, a furious mob of crows. …
December 19, 2011
Cold with a heavy inversion layer. While traffic roars over the ridge to the west, the sun clears the eastern ridge, a silent howl of light. …
December 19, 2010
The cattails' broken blades are white with rime. Two juncos flutter up under the springhouse eaves, investigating the empty phoebe nest. …
December 19, 2009
Fine as powdered sugar, this snow. Juncos wallow in it. A Carolina wren lands on a snowy branch, ruffles its feathers, and does not sing. …
December 19, 2008
Sleet to rain to sleet to rain: the tapping on the roof above my head keeps changing pitch. Faint notes of chickadees, titmice, a nuthatch. …
December 19, 2007
With the ground white, squirrels are visible hundreds of feet up in the woods. And when I shut my eyes, the trees reappear on my eyelids. …

The Morning Porch/Patio

The view from my front porch (in Pennsylvania) or back patio (in London) every morning, in 140 or fewer characters

Wednesday December 02, 2009