Sunday March 27, 2016

Dave Bonta March 27, 2016

In the soft light of a half-hidden sun, the old red maple beside the road is ruddy with blossoms. The sound of teeth chiselling a walnut.

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Leaves wilt on the buddleia and kerria branches piled in the center of the garden—which is now so much lighter, even with the sun gone in. …

The humidity has dropped at last. A goldfinch lands on a stalk of purple bergamot, bobbing in the breeze like an extra, yellow flower. …

Red-eyed vireo, common yellowthroat, indigo bunting: the primary colors of this morning's diminished chorus. The dog twitches in her sleep. …

Two cabbage white butterflies chase, briefly syncing their herky-jerky flights. The yard looks dusty, but it's only the flour on my glasses. …

Wood thrush and cardinal song. A male hummingbird chases a silver-spotted skipper off the beebalm, then retreats to a dead branch to preen. …

Dark burgundy leaves on a dame's-rocket, browning seedheads of dock, the one yellow bracken—autumn is making inroads despite the heat. …

Thin fog in the corner of the field. A Cooper's hawk fledgling responds to its parent, a hot cry, a knife cry, a glossy cry, a soul cry. …

In the side garden, the first bergamot is in bloom, purple dreadlocks shooting from a dusty inflorescence and a necklace of purpled green. …

The Morning Porch/Patio