The Morning Porch

April 29, 2019 by Dave Bonta

A half-warm morning, with the sun half out. I notice that birds have made so many holes in the old hornets’ nest, it’s now Janus-faced.

October 21, 2025
Dawn turns the western ridge orange, as the roar of traffic from an inversion layer nearly drowns out the waking songbirds—all but the Carolina wren, whose teakettle teakettle teakettle is never quiet.
October 21, 2024
Wind rustling through fallen leaves in the moonlight. When it stops, I can hear the careful footsteps of a deer.
October 21, 2023
In the half-light, a patter of hooves from just inside the woods. The grunts of a buck in rut. A dawn sky coming through the trees.
October 21, 2022
Two degrees below freezing and clear at sunrise. A falling tulip tree leaf lands with an audible tick.
October 21, 2021
The last clear morning for a while. A red-tailed hawk flies through the bare birches, trailed by two outraged crows.