A trio of great tits foraging in the shrubbery. A bumblebee flies over, drawing my eye to the swifts circling high against the clouds.
May 2019
Tuesday May 28, 2019
The lonely barking dog goes on and on, day after day. A newly opened rose on a bush I think of as ancient, though it’s younger than me.
Monday May 27, 2019
Overcast and cold. A European robin lands on a severed limb-end of the elder and casts a critical eye at the pile of withered branches.
Sunday May 26, 2019
From a garden across the way, the desolate barks of a dog locked outside. A breeze showers the table with firethorn blossoms.
Saturday May 25, 2019
The severely pruned elder tree has one green limb, hidden from the arborist by a rampant kerria. Its covert blossoms draw a few tiny flies.
Friday May 24, 2019
5:00 AM in London: sunrise. My body says 1:00. Parakeets go shrieking from their roost in the neighbors’ ash, crossing the gibbous moon.
Tuesday May 21, 2019
Breezy and cool. The yard rings with oriole song. A Cooper’s hawk skims the treetops, wings lit up by the rising sun.
Monday May 20, 2019
A hen turkey going past the house catches sight of me and freezes. Nervous clucks, then the huge bird taking flight with surprising grace.
Sunday May 19, 2019
Humid and warm—our first truly summer-like day. The wood pewee, who just returned yesterday, drawls his two-note song from the woods’ edge.
Saturday May 18, 2019
Chipmunks chatter alarm up in the woods, and a moment later the squirrels. I remember the terrified bleating I heard at 1:30 in the morning.