Saturday October 19, 2019

Dave Bonta October 19, 2019

Clear and cool. High overhead, a black, heart-shaped balloon drifts by.

If anything were to happen to the only big tree in this block, we'd know so much less about what the wind is up to, or the goldfinches. …

In a lull between showers, the sideways shimmy of birch and black cherry leaves. One of the neighbors' hens begins to screech. …

Cloudy and cold. The weeds below the porch tremble where a chipmunk forages for seeds. The dog wanders into the garden to graze on grass. …

Rainy and cool. A pair of goldfinches spiral up from the meadow, twittering. I find a dead ant in my last mouthful of coffee. …

Another of the dead cherry's limbs broke off in the night, leaving just one more forked limb and a cluster of stumps, scabrous with fungi. …

Dawn finds the walking onions still as trolls, except for a slight swaying—no doubt the wind. A mosquito bite swells between my knuckles. …

A small ichneumon wasp alights on a porch post, tapping and listening for signs of life. Up in the woods, a deer's explosive snort. …

A passing shower. In the tall weeds of the old corral, the plaintive yelps of a wild turkey hen trying to keep track of her foraging chicks. …

Sun in the tops of the tall locust trees. Even in blossom, they look disreputable—as if they'd been targeted by a passing flock of geese. …

The Morning Porch/Patio