The Morning Porch

September 4, 2013 by Dave Bonta

Two bucks wander past in patchy, shedding coats, spike antlers curved like the horns of anorexic bulls. One pauses to snack on lilac leaves.

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June 13, 2025
Breezy and cool, with the sun guttering in cirrus. Over the course of an hour, I swat an astonishing diversity of small flies and gnats. It’s good to feel wanted, I suppose.
June 13, 2024
A crow gurgling in dispute to the east, a jake-breaking truck to the west… the wood thrush with his pure, bell-like notes gets no respect.
June 13, 2022
An odor from my childhood: the humid oak forest of my grandparents’ South Jersey yard. A chipmunk dashes under my chair.
June 13, 2021
Sunrise past, the last of the night-time moths are fluttering up under the leaves. A sound like the forest drawing a breath.
June 13, 2020
Crystal-clear and cool. A leaf-footed bug squats atop the dial thermometer, unmoving over the “50” even as the pointer inches toward 60.