4/28/2010

Dave Bonta April 28, 2010

Windy at sunrise, and the thermometer’s arrow just past 32. I scan the low spots for frost, thinking about the oaks’ Rapunzel blooms.

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

4/28/2010

September 12, 2023
The old moon is now mostly ember, clasped by a thin crescent no brighter than nearby Venus. The loud highway noise from the west that…
4/28/2010

September 12, 2022
Fog rising into the treetops. The garden chipmunk keeps me company, sitting on the end of the wall, scratching his belly.
4/28/2010

September 12, 2021
Having finally learned the name of a plant in my yard that wasn’t in the field guide, I am seeing it anew, the tall, the…
4/28/2010

September 12, 2018
Home! A migrant wood thrush softly calls over the roar of the rain-swollen creek. In the big tulip tree, a squirrel is building a drey.
4/28/2010

September 12, 2017
Awakened at first light by a whip-poor-will, I find my lost hat and sit outside watching a white cat hunt at the edge of the…
4/28/2010

September 12, 2016
Cold and quiet, with a sky almost as blue as the jays in the treetops. One of them keeps making a rattling sound, as if…
4/28/2010

September 12, 2015
Cold, all-morning rain. Tall goldenrod stalks bow their shaggy heads. From up on the ridge, the nasal calls of blue jays.
4/28/2010

September 12, 2014
Just as the early goldenrod fades, the late begins to bloom. At the wood’s edge, the tulip poplar is having a conversation with itself.
4/28/2010

September 12, 2013
In the weak sunlight, only leaves at just the right angle glisten, dully, like the eyes of dead fish. A cicada calls twice and falls…
4/28/2010

September 12, 2012
A squirrel creeps up to the flicker hole in the dead elm, but another squirrel pops out chittering and gives chase through the treetops.

Go all the way back to 2008...

The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

4/28/2010