9/29/2022

Dave Bonta September 29, 2022 3

Breezy, cold and clear. Perfect weather for my favorite autumn sport, watching leaves fall: those that tumble, those that plummet, those that twirl.

3 Comments

Lainey Schear
2 years ago Permalink

PLEASE UNSUBSCRIBE ME. I’ve tried many times through the “unsubscribe” link, but get nowhere. It’s an endless loop. I’ve tried “trash” and various other things. Please help. Keep writing, but not to me.
1. Dave Bonta
  2 years ago Permalink
  
  Hi Lainey, if you’re subscribed through WordPress.com – the form in the sidebar – I’m afraid I don’t have much to do with that. You’ll have to log into your account, and contact WordPress.com help if needed. If you’re subscribed through an older system I had in place before, please forward one of the emails to me at bontasaurus@yahoo.com
  1. Dave Bonta
    2 years ago Permalink
    
    I just clicked on the unsubscribe link in my own latest email and it unsubscribed me no problem. But I had already been signed in to WordPress.com.

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9/29/2022

July 26, 2023
Rising late, I find the sun already spread out on the leaves like piecemeal linen, shining white, and the forest floor striped with shadows.
9/29/2022

July 26, 2022
It’s actually cold—54F/12C! A crow at the top of the tallest locust where the sun strikes has one thing to say and she is saying…
9/29/2022

July 26, 2021
5:15. The moon through thin clouds. A whip-poor-will’s distant chant. 9:15. The sun through thin clouds. A hummingbird’s mid-air defecation.
9/29/2022

July 26, 2016
A hummingbird buzzes below the porch, looking for the touch-me-nots that the deer have eaten. Fly on my shoe, is it everything you’d hoped?
9/29/2022

July 26, 2015
The box turtle whose territory my house happens to encroach upon sits in the driveway, yellow markings like a road sign in a foreign script.
9/29/2022

July 26, 2012
The yark, yark of ravens skimming the trees, the low cloud ceiling just above. Crushing humidity. Vegetation still drips from a dawn storm.
9/29/2022

July 26, 2011
A perfect morning, clear and cool. A gray squirrel is biting off small branches and carrying them into the thickest part of the tall locust.
9/29/2022

July 26, 2010
The small cross of a plane against the blue, its distant drone. A flicker climbing the dead elm loses his footing on a patch of…
9/29/2022

July 26, 2009
The jesters’ caps on the topheading garlic have begun to split, revealing dense clusters of miniature selves. A raven’s mechanical laughter.
9/29/2022

July 26, 2008
A crashing sound from the springhouse meadow: a pair of bucks chasing each other, frisky as fawns and neck-deep in weeds they do not eat.

Go all the way back to 2008...

The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

9/29/2022

3 Comments