1/4/2021

Dave Bonta January 4, 2021

Yesterday evening’s new-snow magic has completely dissipated, replaced by the familiar bleakness and a drip drip drip on the porch roof.

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1/4/2021

October 17, 2023
Gloomy and cold at dawn. From the depths of the seed-laden goldenrod, the first, bright chips and whistles as the sparrow horde wakes up.
1/4/2021

October 17, 2021
Cloudy and cold. In the thinning treetops, a squirrel takes a wild leap to lose a suitor. Tulip tree samaras helicopter down.
1/4/2021

October 17, 2020
As the rising sun glimmers through the trees, birch and walnut leaves begin to fall, the first hard frost glittering on the ground.
1/4/2021

October 17, 2018
Treetop leaves flipping back and forth—not waving but drowning in the deep blue sky. Sunlight from the window behind me illuminates my book.
1/4/2021

October 17, 2017
Sun in the thinning treetops—a nest of needles. From the other house, the muffled sound of a drill teaching the wall to sing.
1/4/2021

October 17, 2016
So that mackerel sky at midnight meant rain by dawn. But already the clouds are breaking up and slicks of sun are pooling between the…
1/4/2021

October 17, 2015
Sun shining through rain: to the small birds in the treetops, the porch must be ringed in a rainbow. Then it turns to sleet.
1/4/2021

October 17, 2013
Weak sun. The meadow seems haunted by strange winds, seedy goldenrod heads bowing and swaying as flocks of sparrows move through.
1/4/2021

October 17, 2012
A bald-faced hornet nest hangs abandoned from the top of a birch. The sun finds a new hole in the forest and blinds me as…
1/4/2021

October 17, 2011
The spicy smell of moldering leaves. On the barn roof, the shadow of a blue jay lands on the shadow of a limb.

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

1/4/2021