October 2014

Friday October 31, 2014

Dave Bonta October 31, 2014

Just inside the woods, a white spear-tip where a maple’s top snapped off last June, sad as the spikes on the buck standing in the driveway.

Dave Bonta October 30, 2014 1

The woods and fields are brown now, but the large lilac is still a wall of yellowed green, like faded posters for a long-gone fair.

Dave Bonta October 28, 2014

Half an hour after sunrise, a shimmering oscillation, as if from a juggler of knives: despite the cold, a dragonfly is circling the yard.

Dave Bonta October 27, 2014 1

A ragged flock of geese too low for the alembic of distance to mellow their calls. But I hear each wingbeat, see the sun on their feathers.

Dave Bonta October 26, 2014 1

A katydid clings to the side of the house at sunrise, its veined leaf of a body immobile in the cold but still as green as July.

Dave Bonta October 25, 2014

The forest floor glistens: all those fallen leaves not yet stripped of their polish. I picture them crawling with the newly restive ticks.

Dave Bonta October 24, 2014

Clear and bright, but the wind still blows. The long leaves of the cattails have started to brown, their curled ends bowing toward the west.

Dave Bonta October 23, 2014

Back after a week away, I gaze into a grayer, more open forest. The wind makes forays to rustle in the fallen leaves. A titmouse scolds.

Dave Bonta October 12, 2014 4

Clear and cold, though still no first frost. In the garden, the lily-of-the-valley berries have dulled over like the hearts of dead moles.

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This will be the last report from the morning porch until October 23.

Dave Bonta October 11, 2014 2

A field sparrow forages in the seed heads of goldenrod inches from the porch, eye a black stone set in a white ring, keeping me in sight.