9/16/2020

Dave Bonta September 16, 2020

Sun grown vague with haze from the burning of the west. The drone note of tree crickets, so much more introspective than cicadas.

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9/16/2020

October 25, 2023
A dozen geese come honking over the house, interrupting three crows sharing their excitement over a venison gut pile up in the woods.
9/16/2020

October 25, 2022
Overcast with fog that thins out for the purported sunrise. It’s warm enough that one tree cricket trills in the herb garden.
9/16/2020

October 25, 2021
Gibbous moon overhead through a thin veil of fog. A breeze moves through the forest, liberating the night’s rain.
9/16/2020

October 25, 2020
Cold and gray. A downy woodpecker forages in the road, joined by a nuthatch, seemingly curious about this stony alternative to a tree trunk.
9/16/2020

October 25, 2018
Patches of white in the yard—the first frost. So late! But then the oaks are still green, the sky still constrained by leaves.
9/16/2020

October 25, 2017
White sky, bright leaves, shivering on the branch as if in ecstasy. The sine wave of a gray squirrel’s tail and body bounding up the…
9/16/2020

October 25, 2016
The wind persists, and now that the walnut trees are bare I can see the aspens by the marsh, their perpetually agitated crowds yellowing up.
9/16/2020

October 25, 2015
The wind has made the leaves at the end of the porch draw into a circle. A red-tailed hawk soars over the house, flapping to…
9/16/2020

October 25, 2014
The forest floor glistens: all those fallen leaves not yet stripped of their polish. I picture them crawling with the newly restive ticks.
9/16/2020

October 25, 2013
Cold, gray, and windy. Old webworm tents freighted with caterpillar corpses flap in the otherwise bare branches of the walnut trees.

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

9/16/2020