The Morning Porch

October 27, 2022 by Dave Bonta

Dawn. Clouds glow with the lights from town. The great bulk of the lilac against the dark woods, trembling in the wind.

July 31, 2025
Overcast and cool, with sound out of the east: instead of the dull roar of interstate traffic, the dull roar of the quarry. I take stock of the dying: spicebush, lilac and currant bushes all blighted by nematodes, mildew or rust. The sun makes a bleary appearance.
July 31, 2024
Rain drips from the roof and from the trees. Clouds are thinning out. The topmost leaves of the tall tulip poplar are waving.
July 31, 2023
Rising after the sun, I watch it illuminate section by section the complex structure of a funnel spider web.
July 31, 2022
Lightly overcast and cool. A molting warbler skulks in the old lilac, foraging for breakfast on the undersides of leaves.
July 31, 2021
When I adjust my chair, a stab of pain at the base of my middle finger: a yellow jacket, equally alarmed by the encounter, abdomen pulsing.