The Morning Porch

June 12, 2009 by Dave Bonta

The sky is pretending to be blue, but I don’t buy it. A hummingbird may land on a dead branch, but that’s the only green it’s going to get.

February 24, 2025
Contrails fading to white after sunrise—toppled columns from a ruined temple. Three bugle notes from a lone goose. The dull roar of traffic.
February 24, 2024
The woods are far more brown than white after yesterday’s warmth. I glance up from my book to a splash of yellow in the clouds,…
February 24, 2023
Overcast with bright openings and the white noise of wind, raising the dead leaves once again, making them fly.
February 24, 2022
A leaden sky slowly lightening toward midday. A wintry mix is coming and the birds know it: juncos in the driveway swallowing tiny stones.
February 24, 2021
After yesterday’s melting, the snowpack is a maze of wrinkles. The ridge turns orange. A hundred robins appear in the yard.