2/14/2023

Dave Bonta February 14, 2023

An hour past sunrise, it’s mostly clear and quiet except for two red-bellied woodpeckers, their whinnying starting to sound almost like purrs.

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2/14/2023

May 7, 2023
Dawn. Strips of cloud redden like a ladder of blood. But for sheer augury, nothing can top a blossoming hawthorn at the forest edge issuing…
2/14/2023

May 7, 2022
After 24 hours of rain, water streams from the mountain’s every pore. The daffodils’ last trumpet points toward the forest.
2/14/2023

May 7, 2021
Cold and overcast. Through a gap in the leaves I spot an azalea half-way up the hill, its pink deepening as the sun peeks out.
2/14/2023

May 7, 2020
The tulip tree’s luminous new leaves flutter against the blue sky in such a way that one can almost see why foresters call it a…
2/14/2023

May 7, 2019
The cardinal attacks his reflection then sings in triumph. The Cooper’s hawk skulks out of the woods like a ninja. Today I’m the cardinal.
2/14/2023

May 7, 2018
Dawn. Thin fog infiltrates the trees’ pointillist green. A whip-poor-will calls at the woods’ edge with the absolute conviction of the mad.
2/14/2023

May 7, 2017
‪The first dame’s-rocket are coming out: dabs of purple among the banks of winter cress and garlic mustard. Basically, it’s rocket season.‬
2/14/2023

May 7, 2016
All the tulip trees I’ve planted over the years are shimmering towers of pale green. A rabbit’s ears twitch in a patch of wild mustard.
2/14/2023

May 7, 2015
Above the almost-blooming lilac, a hummingbird is doing his courtship display, rocketing back and forth like the pendulum of a crazed clock.
2/14/2023

May 7, 2014
Two catbirds tangle in the air above the stream. A hummingbird dive-bombs a gnatcatcher. The first great-crested flycatcher holds forth.

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

2/14/2023