Thursday July 12, 2018

Dave Bonta July 12, 2018

The labored wingbeats of a wood pigeon spooked by my turning of a page, two cabbage white butterflies swirling in its wake.

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

Hot and humid. A skinny squirrel slinks through the mock orange and elder tree, trailed by the anxious trills of a robin. …

A desiccated earthworm has somehow appeared on the garden walk despite the drought. It twitches, pulled back and forth by gangs of ants. …

A rare fine day—everything's so clear, so bright! An enormous horsefly lands on my leg and for a long moment I study the blade in its mouth. …

Even in flight, the cuckoos skulk: two pairs of thin wings as fast and silent as a burglar's gloves. A small red beetle circles the yard. …

A question mark butterfly lands on the porch and begins tasting the wood. Its wings open, a brown leaf turning back time to fiery autumn. …

Two male towhees trade tweets from opposite sides of the yard. At the top of the dead cherry tree, a goldfinch swivels back and forth. …

Gray and misty. A common yellowthroat keeps caroling back to a Carolina wren, until I have trouble remembering which "witchedy" is which. …

Cool and misty—everything drips. A bumblebee clings to the underside of a bergamot bract; on the topside, an equally motionless ant. …

The Morning Porch/Patio