8/23/2024

Dave Bonta August 23, 2024

Another cold, clear morning. Robins streaked by the molt contend with blue jays for the best perches in the tops of the tall locusts, answering jeers with tuts.

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8/23/2024

November 13, 2023
22F/-5C at sunrise. Every twig and leaf is lightly frosted. I watch my clouds of breath drift into the yard.
8/23/2024

November 13, 2022
Snowflakes floating down from a patchy sky, where the third-quarter moon appears and disappears. The distant fluting of geese.
8/23/2024

November 13, 2021
Cold and gray. Goldenrod seed heads like white-haired old men nodding and whispering far-fetched conspiracy theories about a coming winter.
8/23/2024

November 13, 2020
Backlit by the rising sun for the first time since early May, when the forest behind it leafed out, the old French lilac looks newly…
8/23/2024

November 13, 2019
Juncos’ soft whistles. A white-throated sparrow’s melancholy song. The joyful shrieks of our neighbors’ four-year-old grandchildren.
8/23/2024

November 13, 2018
Two oak leaves are caught by a birch, one after the other. From somewhere in the clouds, the buzzing rattle of a plane with a…
8/23/2024

November 13, 2017
Raindrops grow farther and farther apart until there are none. Three squirrels screech in counterpoint, a preaching choir of fear.
8/23/2024

November 13, 2016
The only cloud is an unmoving section of contrail that barely melts in the course of an hour, stubborn as a block of ice in…
8/23/2024

November 13, 2015
After a night of high winds, the lilac is more threadbare than ever, and in the crowns of the oaks, only the odd clot of…
8/23/2024

November 13, 2014
Cold, overcast and still. Two song sparrows with markedly different regional accents sing back and forth across the road.

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

8/23/2024