11/12/2018

Dave Bonta November 12, 2018

A few, tiny patches of snow linger behind clumps of dead stiltgrass. The sun blazes through the thinning crown of an oak; I start to sneeze.

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

11/12/2018

November 4, 2023
Thin clouds turn livid for the sunrise. A chickadee twitters. Two minutes later, we’re back to gloom.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2022
Cold sunrise. The green hippogriff of a lilac just starting to yellow. Dry leaves whispering of deer in heat.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2021
25F degrees at dawn. A bat flies low over the meadow as the white-throated sparrows tune up. Frost-encrusted blades of grass seem to glow.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2020
My brother pauses in the yard to talk about the waves of migrant birds I’d missed by sleeping in, his face strangely lit by reflected…
11/12/2018

November 4, 2018
Yard seething with birds: sparrows, chickadees, a brown creeper. A raven flies past with something in its bill, wings going pfft pfft pfft.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2017
Cold with mellow sunshine. A vociferous blue jay pauses to swipe its bill vigorously against the branch and scratch its face with one foot.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2016
The red and scarlet oaks have finally turned their namesake colors, and the whole ridge shines like a fresh gut pile in the sun.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2015
Leaves still cling to the tall locusts—threadbare coats of gold beneath the fourth-quarter moon, pale as a discarded toenail clipping.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2014
Warmer and overcast. The silhouettes of small birds feeding gregariously in the top of a black birch—goldfinches, I realize when they fly.
11/12/2018

November 4, 2013
After another cold night, the lilac is carpeting its corner of the yard with the yellow-green curls of its suddenly devalued currency.

Go all the way back to 2008...

The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

11/12/2018