The Morning Porch

December 11, 2021 by Dave Bonta

Foggy and damp on the last day of regular firearms deer season. The limbs of the old crabapple glow blueish green with lichen.

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The moon’s bright bowl full of darkness rises through the trees at dawn and vanishes into clouds. Two great-horned owls on the valley side of…
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A late-morning brightness in the clouds. A white-breasted nuthatch descending a tall black locust turns right-side-up.
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Rising late, what have I missed? The sky is white and the air is dead still. There’s no snow. The usual birds are making their…
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Bright sun, icy breeze. A few flakes zoom past. The only cloud is tiny and dissolves as I watch, leaving the sky to the fourth-quarter…