Sitting in great discomfort due to a sprained back, I regard a deer-stripped black raspberry cane, naked except for its thorns.
Dave Bonta
July 1, 2009
June 30, 2009
June 29, 2009
June 28, 2009
The pasture rose in front of my wall bears two white blossoms: bindweed raising its flared trumpets to the white sky. The smell of rain.
June 27, 2009
June 26, 2009
Bright sunshine after a night of thunderstorms. Four deer—two does and two fawns—run through the steaming woods.
June 25, 2009
Beside the springhouse, the twittering zoom of a hummingbird’s courtship dive: from sunlight into cattail shadows and back. Tanager song.
June 24, 2009
June 23, 2009
June 22, 2009
Soft applause from the road bank: a doe’s ears flapping as she shakes her head to chase away the flies.
June 21, 2009
June 20, 2009
A hummingbird grooms itself in the middle of a downpour while a phoebe plucks insects from the side of the dead elm, hovering in place.
June 19, 2009
Another dark morning. The wood pewee makes a rare visit to the edge of the yard, sings one, sad note, and snaps a brown moth out of the air.