The Morning Porch

April 23, 2019 by Dave Bonta

The first cabbage whites of spring! said no one ever. But their mad pas de deux is as full of zest as the tiger beetle gleaming green below.

August 17, 2025
An autumnal sunrise heralded by crickets. I search the bracken patch for any two fronds in the same shade of green, yellow, or brown.
August 17, 2024
A pause between showers. The thud of a walnut dropped by a squirrel. A housefly circles the porch. The rain starts back up.
August 17, 2023
Sunrise filling every cloud’s belly with pink as the Carolina wren trills over and over—once for each cloud, it seems.
August 17, 2022
The sun finally struggles out by midmorning. Rain-dampened vegetation glistens like a salamander’s skin.
August 17, 2021
Sunrise hidden by clouds. Towhee and cardinal’s usual soliloquies. A mosquito sings her need into my ear.