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Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

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  • Saturday August 13, 2022

Saturday August 13, 2022

Dave Bonta August 13, 2022

45F/7C at sunrise. I carry a chair up into the woods, watch sunlight seep down the oaks with color commentary by a red-eyed vireo.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged cold, red-eyed vireo, sunrise
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On this date

    February 4, 2022

    Dawn, and all the stream’s voices are raised. A squirrel finds a black walnut sticking out of a snowbank and races off with it. …

    February 4, 2021

    A crow mob on the move—their angry cries. Sun stripes the snow. I hold my head still to watch the slowly shifting points of glitter. …

    February 4, 2020

    Unseasonably warm. The first half of a song sparrow's song. Two titmice in the crabapple swipe their bills back and forth on their branches. …

    February 4, 2019

    The snow has gone slushy, turning the hollow from a soundproof room into an echo chamber. Over the traffic noise, a junco's cadenza. …

    February 4, 2018

    Fine snow settling over everything. From up in the woods, strange, high-pitched cries. Two crows fly off. The snow thickens. …

    February 4, 2017

    Sunny and cold. A chipmunk's awake, racing over the snow at the woods' edge. Icicles fall from the roof and shatter with a festive tinkling. …

    February 4, 2015

    From down-hollow, a pileated woodpecker comes yelling straight over the house, lands and falls silent, joining its mate to forage for grubs. …

    February 4, 2014

    A junco separated from its flock chirps noisily in the lilac. At the edge of the field, two crows do their frantic best to gin up a mob. …

    February 4, 2013

    The sun rises above a mass of cloud looming like the lost, real mountain for which this is a foothill. A wren pops out from under the porch. …

    February 4, 2012

    A wool-gray sky. This is not the blue morning we were promised! But tell it to the bluebirds warbling above the garage. …

    February 4, 2011

    Dim sun. Trunks and branches still sheathed in ice glisten, surrounded by duller companions like glitterati on the streets of New York. …

    February 4, 2010

    A cloudless morning. The squeaky chatter of winter finches, so forlorn on an overcast day, now seems like the sound of happiness itself. …

    February 4, 2009

    At first light, some large animal crunching through the snowpack at the woods' edge. It slows, stops. I wait for daybreak: nothing there. …

    February 4, 2008

    Trains going through the gap sound close: rain's on the way. A pileated comes yelling into the yard just as the first drops begin to fall. …

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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.

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