Wednesday June 13, 2018

Dave Bonta June 13, 2018

The howl of a workman’s saw: part rage, part ecstasy. On the little cafe table on the patio, another fresh scattering of mock orange petals.

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August 14, 2016
Cool and breezy. A fly with a blue abdomen and golden thorax, first spotted yesterday, returns for further exploration of my partner's knee.
August 14, 2015
Another perfect morning. A hummingbird lifts off from the bergamot, tailed closely by a moth. The quiet, anxious calls of a titmouse.
August 14, 2014
A phoebe flies back and forth between the sunlit treetops, criss-crossing the moon. I can hear the clicks of its bill as it catches insects.
August 14, 2012
A large praying mantis at the edge of the porch, near where I sit, turns its head to watch me with unblinking, space-alien eyes.
August 14, 2011
The storm just past, a bald-faced hornet flies back and forth over the flattened stiltgrass. The crickets pick up where they left off.
August 14, 2010
Would morning glories keep blooming all summer as the wild bindweed does? This morning, four new horns fill with tree-cricket trills.
August 14, 2009
Thin fog. Now that the phoebes have left, their shy cousins the pewees have come out of the woods, and herald each sunrise in a slow drawl.
August 14, 2008
Sunrise comes with a soundtrack of grinding and beeping from the quarry to our east. Right below the railing, goldenrod bobs: a winter wren.

The Morning Porch/Patio