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Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

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  • Tuesday April 09, 2013

Tuesday April 09, 2013

Dave Bonta April 9, 2013

A wild turkey gobbling on the far ridge. Two field sparrows trade calls, notes rising as they accelerate like engines being revved up.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged field sparrow, wild turkey
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On this date

    January 29, 2022

    Cold and quiet. A junco foraging in the stiltgrass chirps after every beakful. A five-squirrel parade snakes past the yard: mating season. …

    January 29, 2021

    Another bitter cold morning. A few snowflakes wander back and forth as if lost. The resident naturalist picks her way down the icy trail. …

    January 29, 2020

    Quiet save for water gurgling under the yard. Small patches of blue sky slowly merge. The sun comes out to a burst of goldfinch notes. …

    January 29, 2019

    Another snowfall. The small hole in the yard that leads to an underground stream remains open, like a breathing hole for seals in sea ice. …

    January 29, 2018

    The same sort of day as yesterday, but so many more bird calls! A chipmunk emerges and goes on an inspection tour of the old stone wall. …

    January 29, 2017

    Male cardinals bathe side-by-side in the stream, then resume chasing. A jay perches in a dogwood bush shaking the water from his wings. …

    January 29, 2015

    Shrunk in the cold, the porch floorboards pop loudly when I come out. In my snowshoe tracks below the porch, a scattering of rabbit pellets. …

    January 29, 2014

    Clear and very cold. The muffled roar of distant military jets. From up at the other house, a tufted titmouse's monotonous chant. …

    January 29, 2013

    Out of the dense fog, the too-fast-to-count taps of a woodpecker drumming for the music of it. He pauses to let a train whistle blow. …

    January 29, 2012

    This could be March, were it not for the late, slow-rising sun. The powerline right-of-way is a band of yellow light through the dark woods. …

    January 29, 2011

    It's snowing again. A blue jay keeps returning to the same high limb to eat snow, as if it can't find that exact flavor anywhere else. …

    January 29, 2010

    Cold dawn—a tree pops like a rifle. Nothing between here and the stars but the sunlight's thickening mud. My windward cheek turns numb. …

    January 29, 2009

    A dozen doves take flight all at once—a confusion of flutes. From the almost-finished house a quarter mile away, the scream of a power saw. …

    January 29, 2008

    Like a familiar word in the middle of a speech in some other language: through the roar of traffic from over the ridge, a screech owl calls. …

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Related book

Cover of Ice Mountain with a linocut of a big ridgetop tree.

What I do after I sit on the porch. One winter and spring's daily walks distilled into short poems with linocut illustrations by Beth Adams.

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