Dave Bonta

November 6, 2007

Dave Bonta November 6, 2007

Wind and rain have stripped the birches and maples at the edge of the woods. A gray squirrel leaps through the bare branches.

November 5, 2007

Dave Bonta November 5, 2007 1

Venus and the fourth-quarter moon stand close together, shining through the treetops as I drink my coffee.

January 22, 2024
Between moonset and dawn, a dark hour filled with the sound of freight trains. I hold my head still to watch Venus slip through the…
January 22, 2023
Sky the color of faded jeans. It’s cold. The crash of a dead limb falling from the treetops where two female squirrels are eluding suitors.
January 22, 2022
The coldest morning of the year so far. Every few minutes, a tree with ice in its heartwood cracks like a gunshot. The ridge turns…
January 22, 2021
Half an hour before sunrise, the first inquisitive chirps: mockingbird. A snow-free caesura in the road where the spring flows under it.
January 22, 2020
Classic January morning: clear sky, very still, very cold. A lone crow’s harangue. The furnace stopping in mid-rumble as the power goes out.