The gray winter pelts of two grazing deer are just beginning to fray. The fog withdraws into the woods and the webs of grass spiders.
Dave Bonta
May 5, 2009
May 4, 2009
Every morning the green is a little more intense as May turns slowly into Will. Just audible over the rain, some distant motor’s steady hum.
May 2, 2009
May 1, 2009
Warm rain. The wood thrushes have returned to sing at the edge of the woods for another year. It’s almost possible to believe in redemption.
April 30, 2009
April 29, 2009
Does the cottontail rabbit remember winter when the bridal wreath bush it uses for cover again turns white?
April 28, 2009
April 27, 2009
Sunrise. A white moth and a white… April 26, 2009
April 25, 2009
Kitchen: wolf spider. Bathroom: silverfish. Dining room: millipede. And right above me on the porch, a gnatcatcher lands and sings.
April 24, 2009
The bottom half of the porcupine-girdled cherry tree is in bloom; the top is lifeless. You’d think the news would travel from the ground up.