The leaves on one branch of the big maple have turned yellow. The shrill cries of the resident crows driving an invader off the mountain.
2016
June 23, 2016
A blue jay skulks through the trees at the woods’ edge but still a nuthatch spots him, and within seconds a mob of small birds assembles.
June 22, 2016
Sleep deprivation is suddenly making me very bored with the monotony of green. In my last dream before waking, I was wading through snow.
June 21, 2016
Overcast and cool. Below the porch, a single orange jewelweed flower and a traveling shiver in the grass where a vole is foraging.
June 20, 2016
A burst of activity at the top of one of the tall locusts: chickadees scold, a phoebe catches gnats, and other birds sit shining in the sun.
June 19, 2016
Another bright sunny morning—meaning the shadows are deep and full of unseen singers: scarlet tanager, cerulean warbler, even a wood thrush.
June 18, 2016
Strands of caterpillar silk float on the breeze, appearing and disappearing as they pass through sunbeams. Ravens’ falsetto alarm calls.
June 17, 2016
The crash of a falling limb or tree, muffled by moss and damp leaf duff. The humidity’s lifting. A white admiral butterfly lands on my hand.
June 16, 2016
Overcast and humid. A brown leafhopper appears on my arm, and I nudge it with my finger to watch its improbable rocket-launch of a leap.
June 15, 2016
Noise from the quarry—a grinding drone that runs under everything: oriole song, woodpecker drumming, a hummingbird’s Geiger-counter clicks.
June 14, 2016
A cricket in the wall chirps more quickly now that the sun is on it. I sneeze and he falls silent. A great spangled fritillary careens past.
June 13, 2016
Gray things: a squirrel and a titmouse sharing a gray limb. A catbird in the road swallowing gray stones. Large parts of the sky.
June 12, 2016
A filmy-winged fly back-lit by the sun yo-yos up and down in the middle of the yard, despite the stiff breeze. Overhead, a vulture circling.
June 11, 2016
Everything moves in the wind but the broken dog statue, the dead rosebush, and the five-fingered cherry stump raised as if in surrender.