6/21/2024

Dave Bonta June 21, 2024

A hazy sunrise for the first full day of astronomical summer. The feral garlics are raising crane’s-bill heads.

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6/21/2024

September 28, 2023
Clear and cold, with sound out of the east: the rumble and squeal of a slow freight train. Jays jeer. A wren puts the kettle…
6/21/2024

September 28, 2022
Overcast, windy and cold at dawn. Soft thuds as the black walnut tree releases its ordnance onto the road.
6/21/2024

September 28, 2021
Thunderstorm at dawn; I rush through my shower so I can watch the rain. With each lightning flash, raindrops falling from the eaves become momentary…
6/21/2024

September 28, 2020
With each breeze, a shower of yellow leaves. Now and then a whole walnut leaf—spine and rib bones sinking together in this sea of air.
6/21/2024

September 28, 2018
Cold and damp. The distant rumble of the heating oil truck’s diesel engine coming up the hollow. Voices of crows. Voices of children.
6/21/2024

September 28, 2017
‪The air’s so clear I can see gnats 100 feet away—bright motes wandering among the trees. Dead leaves crowd together at the end of the…
6/21/2024

September 28, 2016
Overcast with quarry noise out of the east. A lone Canada goose flies low over the trees, its voice breaking like a teenage boy’s.
6/21/2024

September 28, 2015
As leaves begin to flutter in the rain, I notice the small birds fluttering underneath them, like a flash mob that was there all along.
6/21/2024

September 28, 2014
A high-speed chase through the yard—one Cooper’s hawk tailing another. Woodpecker pandemonium. High above, a jet leaves two blank lines.
6/21/2024

September 28, 2013
All the stiltgrass has turned burgundy—”the wine-dark yard.” In the woods, a steady procession of falling birch leaves.

Go all the way back to 2008...

The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

6/21/2024