3/4/2023

Dave Bonta March 4, 2023

The ground is once again armored in white. Gusts of wind materialize like minor demons, treetops crashing together, dropping dead limbs.

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3/4/2023

July 27, 2023
A wood thrush is singing in the distance. I shoo away the mosquito singing in my ear to listen.
3/4/2023

July 27, 2022
Sun rising into clouds. The mob of wild garlic heads in the meadow are beginning to shed their white hoods.
3/4/2023

July 27, 2021
Cool beginning to a hot day. I can’t stop watching the hummingbird sphinx moths, their retractable drinking straws as quick as thought.
3/4/2023

July 27, 2016
Two chipmunks in the woods locked in a rap battle fall in and out of sync. The chipmunk in the garden listens from atop the…
3/4/2023

July 27, 2015
Tussock moth caterpillars rappelling from a walnut limb. One changes its mind half way—a little white comma returning to its green sentence.
3/4/2023

July 27, 2012
A phoebe dives at a cabbage white butterfly and comes up short. It zigzags after it, hovers, snaps again: only a tiny piece of white…
3/4/2023

July 27, 2011
Another cool morning. Autumn’s in the air, I say to myself, but it’s really just a cricket chirping in the corner of the garden.
3/4/2023

July 27, 2010
In the springhouse marsh, 13 cattail spikes are turning brown. When I go over for a closer look, a deer pops her head up, swivels…
3/4/2023

July 27, 2009
A chipmunk’s steady drip. How many years have I been sitting here? I remember each stage in the lichen’s conquest of the springhouse roof.
3/4/2023

July 27, 2008
In the almost still air, one long walnut leaf pivots like a hand on a wrist. A tiny caterpillar floats past my face on an…

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

3/4/2023