Sunday November 02, 2014

Windy and overcast, with a few flakes of snow in the air. Yellow leaves peel off the aspens as I watch. Two ravens croak back and forth.

On this date

Walnut leaves have begun to yellow, as leaf miners turn the locust trees brown. A red-eyed vireo warbles on and on. …

A dragonfly with shimmering, banded wings and an electric blue abdomen lands on a garlic seed-head, falls still and nearly disappears. …

A half-grown fawn, no mother in sight, wanders through the foxtail millet and into the woods, its fading spots glimmering in the deep shade. …

A honeybee conducts a slow inspection of the porch railing, including my boots. I'm pondering the secret cousinship of wrens and crickets. …

Cool, clear and quiet—a silence that's part Sunday and part molting season. The Canada thistles too are shedding white fur into the breeze. …

Gone is the persistent "tweet?" of the breeding season: at first light, the towhee's call falls like a declarative, flat and final. …

At sunrise, a pair of screech owls trill back and forth, one high, one low, as orange-and-purple clouds race overhead. …

The Morning Porch