2018

A jet roars overhead en route to Heathrow. The rattling call of a magpie. An American gray squirrel lopes along the top of the back wall.

The clock says “early” but the sun says “late”. The distant cries of schoolchildren mingle with the birds.
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I’ve decided to re-name this blog The Morning Porch/Patio — a bit awkward, I know — so that I can continue posting during the summer here in London, where I expect to spend an increasing portion of each year from now on. My partner lives in a terraced house (what Americans call a townhouse or row house) in Kensal Rise, with a walled back garden and patio where I take my morning coffee… unless it’s raining, which is of course why American-style porches are an inspired architectural innovation.

The rose bush in the garden has unfolded its first set of sexual parts. I’m dueting with a dunnock via an audio recording on my phone.

A blue tit skulks around the bird feeder like a dapper, introverted chickadee. Nearly hidden in the elder, the blackbird turns on her nest.