The Morning Porch

November 8, 2018 by Dave Bonta

All the most supine stiltgrass has grown white fur in the night. Two nuthatches foraging at the woods’ edge react badly to my sneeze.

June 18, 2025
Rain and fog. I’m beginning to feel sorry for the 17-year cicadas whose one summer in the sun has so far been so sodden. I watch one go motoring past, wings mirroring the white sky.
June 18, 2024
Everything still drips from last night’s storm. I abandon the porch for a quick hike before the heat.
June 18, 2023
The light is still murky and cool at mid-morning as lulls in the avian chorus lengthen. The breeze riffling through walnut leaves. A cowbird’s liquid note.
June 18, 2022
Windy and cool. The pale undersides of leaves turning in unison like shoals of fish. A robin and a tanager trading off.
June 18, 2021
High, hazy clouds dilute the sunlight. A chipping sparrow lands sideways on a tall dame’s-rocket stalk, singing as it bows under his weight.