The Morning Porch

Dave Bonta March 21, 2017

Sunlight at half-strength on the half-gone snow. Behind the house, a squirrel twists and rubs itself ecstatically against a rotten stump.

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August 5, 2024
Clear at sunrise, and cool enough that the crickets are still. I notice the big tulip tree at the woods’ edge has shed all its…
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Rain and fog. A wood thrush sings three times and falls silent. A mourning dove goes on and on.
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