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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

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Month: December 2023

December 31, 2023 by Dave Bonta

The cloud ceiling briefly switches to faint pastels: sunrise. One yammering nuthatch and, from down in the hollow, a screech owl’s soft trill.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags clouds, screech owl, sunrise, white-breasted nuthatch 2 Comments
December 30, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Overcast at dawn. A cold kiss—snowflakes in the air. When the sunrise comes, it’s only evident in the caws of crows.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags American crow, dawn, snowflakes, sunrise
December 29, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Mostly clear at sunrise, but clouds gather in the east before the sun tops the ridge. A pair of ravens go over with a new word: two syllables, starting hoarse and ending clear.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags clouds, raven, sunrise
December 28, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Sun almost shining through the fog. A winter wren warbles from the marsh. Up by the garage, bluebirds. It feels like March, with December light.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags bluebird, fog, winter wren
December 27, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Thick fog and silence. A song sparrow pipes up just before sunrise. It gets darker again. A bluebird warbles as the rain resumes.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags bluebird, fog, rain, song sparrow, sunrise
December 26, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Rain tapering into mist and drizzle. A squirrel finds a black walnut next to the road, swiftly de-husks it and carries it away. The sky brightens. A goldfinch lisps a single note.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags American goldfinch, black walnut, fog, gray squirrel, rain
December 25, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Heavily overcast, with nothing to distinguish the sunrise from any other moment, soft and gray as old felt in the nearly complete absence of human noise.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow
December 24, 2023 by Dave Bonta

A few degrees above freezing, heavily overcast, and dead quiet apart from the spring’s low gurgle. A bluebird sings two notes and lapses back into silence.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags bluebird, clouds
December 23, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Silhouetted against the dawn sky, a squirrel forages for birch seeds right where Venus was last seen, glimmering through thin clouds.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags black birch, dawn, gray squirrel, Venus
December 22, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Half an hour till sunrise. The sky’s gray matter is deeply furrowed. The caroling of a Carolina wren briefly dispels the gloom.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags Carolina wren, clouds
December 21, 2023 by Dave Bonta

The solstice dawns cold and overcast, with a small lens of clear sky on the eastern horizon. A thin, wavering song from the meadow: the first white-throated sparrow has woken up.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags solstice, white-throated sparrow
December 20, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Clear as a bell and cold as a well, notwithstanding which the brown mountain is beginning to show through its thin blanket of snow.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags cold, snow
December 19, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Well below freezing, with a half-inch of snow on the ground and a wind that keeps turning the pages of my book. The sun appears for a second or two through a gray eyelid of cloud.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags cold, snow, wind 2 Comments
December 18, 2023 by Dave Bonta

Wind seasoned with drizzle in the pre-dawn darkness. Between gusts, the distant whine of tires. A tree limb cracks, but no crash.

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Categories Plummer's Hollow Tags rain, wind
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On This Day

  • December 4, 2024
    After an orange sunrise, in the ordinary light of an overcast morning, the mechanical tapping of a downy woodpecker, the slow wingbeats of a raven.
  • December 4, 2023
    A mottled gray sky all the way to the horizon, not brightening even for the sunrise, let alone for the crows with their many complaints…
  • December 4, 2022
    Still haunted by dreams I can’t remember when the sun clears the ridge and sets the clouds of my breath aglow.
  • December 4, 2021
    Clear except for two contrails, fuzzy with age. Another scrap of gray paper has fallen from the old hornets’ nest, its lines blank as ever.
  • December 4, 2020
    The snow has shrunk to a few spots the low sun doesn’t reach. In the herb bed, the only white is a pile of clippings…

See all...

Related book

Cover of Ice Mountain with a linocut of a big ridgetop tree.

What I do after I sit on the porch. One winter and spring's daily walks distilled into short poems with linocut illustrations by Beth Adams.

Header image: detail from Paper Garden by Clive Hicks-Jenkins (used by permission)

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