April 2, 2017 by Dave Bonta The sun fades as the sky turns paler blue. I close my eyes to listen to the creek—after rain, like a room full of whispered conversations. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
April 1, 2017 by Dave Bonta Overcast and cold. Goldfinches flit through the yard, one of them already in his summer molt: pace Frost, their first gold is green. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads