The Morning Porch

November 8, 2019 by Dave Bonta

First light. A small bird who’d been spending the night in the old hornets’ nest chirps and flutters off. A light dusting of snow.

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July 6, 2025
A cool and humid sunrise, with the silence of a long holiday weekend continuing to linger. The buzz of a hummingbird. A firefly goes past with his unlit lantern.
July 6, 2024
Breezy and a bit less humid. A low buzz below the porch, where orange jewelweed attracts a ruby-throated hummingbird. A low rumble from my own stomach.
July 6, 2023
A still morning. A half-grown walnut lets go of its branch while I’m looking at it, prompting an odd feeling of guilt.
July 6, 2022
Some unscheduled sunshine from a fissure in the clouds, while the breeze whispers of distant storms. I scratch a new itch to redness.
July 6, 2021
In the growing heat, a wood pewee flies from perch to perch, singing, circling the house. I feel as if I’m being ensorcelled.