Sunday May 12, 2019

Dave Bonta May 12, 2019

A flock of warblers at the woods’ edge in the pouring rain: flashes of redstart, cerulean, black-and-white. A singing black-throated green.

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In the deep blue, the only spots of white, high overhead, are swans: two large Vs tacking this way and that, trailing their piccolo notes. …

The sun's slow fadeout. Two male cardinals travel together to the stream and back again—flashes of color in an increasingly monochrome yard. …

Sunny and cool. Above the steady tapping of meltwater from the top roof, the nearly constant calling or singing of chickadees. …

‪Filmy-winged gnats are blown past the porch, pale as snowflakes in the strong sun. Overhead, the fierce cries of ravens playing in the wind.‬ …

Sunny and warm. A bluebird is warbling up by the barn and a song sparrow sings next to the springhouse. …

Windy and bright. A hawk flies out of the woods and spirals into the blue. I sit reading a 2500-year-old poem, its heart-ache still fresh. …

A groundhog crosses the road and enters a burrow just cleared of snow. A song sparrow sings close enough that I can see his throat throb. …

The bright sun frees a leaf in the yard from a new fur of snow; a cold breeze raises it from the dead and sends it sailing over the house. …

Warmth without shadows, the gossip of goldfinches like a single bright thread. The rabbit doesn't chance a dash across the yard. …

Trying to like this late snow, its sparkles and shadows, I hear the distant cries of swans, fleeing north in search of true tundra. …

A chipmunk dashes over the snow from one tree melt-hole to another. A downy woodpecker finds a hollow limb that makes him sound enormous. …

The distant drumming of a pileated woodpecker is the loudest thing. A faint rustle in the field, the yard, the woods as the rain moves in. …

A chipmunk emerges from the base of the stone wall and races over the soft snow. All this rain has brought out the blush in the red maples. …

The Morning Porch