The Morning Porch

Dave Bonta March 7, 2025

Windy, cold and clear at dawn. A song sparrow pipes up from the depths of the lilac. The ridge turns red.

Previous Post: Previous Post

Next Post: Next Post

April 30, 2024
The sun rose while I was watching the moon. Now there’s a black-throated blue warbler at the woods’ edge whispering its three-syllable song.
April 30, 2023
Steady rain through the intense green of new leaves, softened by fog. A gray squirrel sits hunched over an acorn under the awning of its…
April 30, 2022
Another cold, clear morning. As the sun moves off the lilac it illuminates a small witch hazel up in the woods—that pale green fire of…
April 30, 2021
Trees bend and sway in the wind: how seldom they collide, how little noise they make! A black-and-white warbler wheezes like a pump handle.
April 30, 2020
Above the sound of rain, buzzy calls of warblers. The young turkey who’s been hanging around wanders out of the woods, looking bedraggled.