The Morning Porch

January 3, 2010 by Dave Bonta

Ten degrees Fahrenheit with a wind. An oak leaf skitters across the snow on its pointed tips, bumping through a forest of dead weeds.

February 1, 2025
Temperature falling as the sun rises. The sound of wind from far off. A small scarlet oak that kept some of its leaves shivers a…
February 1, 2024
Just past sunrise the sky almost clears, then clouds over again. The thermometer’s black arrow points straight at 32. The mound of plowed slow at…
February 1, 2023
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this: bitter cold with the ground mostly bare. Chickadees are having a fracas. Snow drifts down…
February 1, 2022
With crows about, a raven skulks through the pines, talking with its mate in sotto voce rattles. They fly over the porch with labored wingbeats.
February 1, 2021
Half-way through a slow snowstorm. The birds seem restless. First a titmouse, then a nuthatch land on the edge of the porch to tell me…