6/26/2023

Dave Bonta June 26, 2023

Thick fog. The wren sings from the other side of the house, seemingly unconcerned by losing two days’ labor when their unbalanced new nest fell out of the rafters.

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

6/26/2023

July 27, 2023
A wood thrush is singing in the distance. I shoo away the mosquito singing in my ear to listen.
6/26/2023

July 27, 2022
Sun rising into clouds. The mob of wild garlic heads in the meadow are beginning to shed their white hoods.
6/26/2023

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.
6/26/2023

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…
6/26/2023

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.
6/26/2023

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…
6/26/2023

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.
6/26/2023

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…
6/26/2023

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.
6/26/2023

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…

Go all the way back to 2008...

The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

6/26/2023