Skip to content

The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

  • About
  • Keyword index
  • Multimedia
  • Links
    • Via Negativa
    • Moving Poems
    • DaveBonta.com
    • Woodrat Photoblog
  • Home
  • 2022
  • January
  • Monday January 17, 2022

Monday January 17, 2022

Dave Bonta January 17, 2022

The tail-end of a storm that brought snow, sleet, freezing rain, and snow again. The trees look like they’ve been dipped in confectioner’s sugar.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged freezing rain, sleet, snow, snowstorm
Previous Post: Previous Post
Next Post: Next Post

Primary Sidebar

On this date

    May 16, 2021

    The catbirds are much more furtive now going into the barberry that hides their nest. Two cuckoos call up a bit of rain. …

    May 16, 2020

    A brown thrasher's jazz echoes off the barn. In the clear plastic hummingbird feeder, a lampyrid beetle takes a very long time to drown. …

    May 16, 2019

    A scraggly-looking doe, still in her gray winter pelt, crosses the stream below the house, pausing to graze on a multiflora rose. …

    May 16, 2016

    In the tall locusts still bare of leaves, the flaming orange of a Baltimore oriole—no, two orioles in a mad chase. The victor's brassy song. …

    May 16, 2015

    Both bluebirds land on top of the stump, look at me, and warble aggressively. In the lily-of-the-valley bed, the bells are fading to brown. …

    May 16, 2014

    The porch floor is blotched with pollen. Through the bright-green new leaves, the last few dots of sky are still visible above the ridge. * I'm off to the U.K., so this w …

    May 16, 2013

    Sunny and hot. A small ichneumon wasp on the shady side of a column actually stops vibrating for a few seconds and is completely still. …

    May 16, 2012

    The air is so clear, I can see individual specks of pollen. In the field, the long grass sways under the restless wings of a female harrier. …

    May 16, 2010

    At daybreak, a small deer leaps and twists like a bronco with an invisible rider, then careens through the purple haze of dame's-rocket. …

    May 16, 2009

    A phoebe hovers beside its nest under the springhouse eaves, then lands above it, bug still in beak, tail like a tapping foot: ah, marriage. …

    May 16, 2008

    At 6:00, the sky grows dark again as a storm approaches. Wood thrushes start back up. The lilac's white torches all point at the ground. …

Follow via email

Other ways to follow

  • @morningporch on Twitter
  • RSS - entries
  • RSS - comments
  • Follow on Feedly

Related book

Cover of Ice Mountain with a linocut of a big ridgetop tree.

What I do after I sit on the porch. One winter and spring's daily walks distilled into short poems with linocut illustrations by Beth Adams.

Copyleft

Creative Commons License
All works on this site by Dave Bonta are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Header image

Detail from Paper Garden by Clive Hicks-Jenkins (used by permission)

Archives

Frequent topics

American goldfinch American robin black birch black walnut blue jays cardinal Carolina wren catbird cherry tree chickadee chipmunks clouds cold crows dawn deer downy woodpecker fall foliage fog frost garden gray squirrel I-99 juncos lilac moon oaks phoebe pileated woodpecker rain raven ruby-throated hummingbird snow snowflakes springhouse stream sunrise train trucks tufted titmouse tulip tree white-breasted nuthatch white-throated sparrow wind wood thrush

  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Flickr
  • Vimeo
  • RSS

Copyright © 2022 The Morning Porch. Powered by WordPress and Stargazer.