The Morning Porch

Dave Bonta April 20, 2010

Sun filtered by thin cirrostratus clouds. The hawk’s shadow is soft as a squirrel’s tail, but it still sets off all the alarms.

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

November 9, 2024
One degree above freezing and very still. The sun’s slow climb through bare branches. The sound of gnawing rodent teeth in three directions.
November 9, 2023
it starts raining just as I come out on the porch, completing the November trinity: cold, gray, and wet. Goldfinch chatter. The keening of truck…
November 9, 2022
Clear and cold. With the power out, morning is a logistical challenge, but when I have the time to sit, the sparrows are singing as…
November 9, 2021
Dawn silence. A distant Carolina wren. I'm standing outside in my PJs enjoying the relative warmth (38F) when I spot the first cloud in days.
November 9, 2020
Yet another clear, still morning. The light-drenched forest of almost-winter. Outraged crows answering the raven’s chant with their own.