6/11/2020

Dave Bonta June 11, 2020

The trees are restless with rumors of distant storms. From somewhere nearby, the urgent chirps of nestlings whose parent has just returned.

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6/11/2020

April 24, 2023
Three degrees below freezing, but no frost. The dawn chorus seems reduced in volume, though the towhees and one tom turkey aren’t holding back.
6/11/2020

April 24, 2022
Cool beginning of a day forecast to be hot. The high, thin whistles of waxwings. A fantastically dissonant freight train horn.
6/11/2020

April 24, 2021
The wings of insects shining in the sun where snowflakes flew two days ago. The Cooper’s hawk sounds as gung-ho as ever. I sharpen a…
6/11/2020

April 24, 2020
Mizzle. A squirrel emerges from under the porch, spots me, and rears up with one front paw tucked into its chest hair like rodent Napoleon.
6/11/2020

April 24, 2019
The fluttery way a Cooper’s hawk flies, skimming the treetops. Later, a jet goes the same way, its contrail just the briefest I and I.
6/11/2020

April 24, 2018
Kinglets drop down out of the trees to join the gnatcatchers hawking insects in the yard. They sing, feint, flash eponymous ruby crowns.
6/11/2020

April 24, 2017
‪Overcast and cool. I’m outside for an hour and there’s no point at which something—chipmunk, squirrel, towhee, siren—isn’t signalling alarm.‬
6/11/2020

April 24, 2016
Cold air, warm sun. Two male towhees tweet at each other in the lilac. The old crabapple is coming into bloom, as shockingly pink as…
6/11/2020

April 24, 2015
It’s just above freezing, bright sun alternating with clouds. The usual bird calls seem to have an almost interrogatory tone.
6/11/2020

April 24, 2014
A cloudless blue sky. It’s hard to tell the pale elm flowers from the sunlight shining on bare twigs and branches. A dove calls and…

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

6/11/2020