The Morning Porch

December 3, 2014 by Dave Bonta

A faint shimmer of precipitation, and everything encased in a layer of ice as if the world’s been shrink-wrapped for overnight delivery.

2 thoughts on “”

Comments are closed.

June 2, 2025
Cold and crystal-clear, before the high-altitude smog from the burning forests of Canada shows up. On the end of a walnut limb, chipping sparrows are mating and foraging with their usual enthusiasm.
June 2, 2024
Heavily overcast and cool. Several deer are running back and forth in the woods, giving me glimpses of their red summer pelts. A thrasher sings a few bars and falls silent.
June 2, 2023
Fire sirens wailing through the gap. A hummingbird comes to the spray from my garden hose, his gorget redder than any flower.
June 2, 2022
Overcast and cool. A red-bellied woodpecker lands on a rotten maple, witters softly and turns her head, listening for the telltale stirrings of breakfast.
June 2, 2021
Four goldfinches take an intense discussion all around the yard. Two squirrels travel together much more slowly—must be mating season again.