Clear and cool. A deer snorts alarm up in the woods. A female cardinal picks a black raspberry on her way through my yard.
Plummer’s Hollow
6/24/2024
Breezy, cool and clear, with chimney swifts circling high overhead and a single raven hurtling past without flapping a wing.
6/23/2024
Overcast. Sunrise is when the crows wake up. A large brown moth tucks itself into the eaves.
6/22/2024
Ten minutes past sunrise, the catbird begins to improvise. The first mosquito welt of the day rises on the back of my hand.
6/21/2024
A hazy sunrise for the first full day of astronomical summer. The feral garlics are raising crane’s-bill heads.
6/20/2024
A cool beginning to another hot day. The chipping sparrow’s dry rattle. Phoebe and wood-pewee from either side of the woods’ edge like the citizens of neighboring countries comparing accents.
6/19/2024
Mist rising from the meadow. In the woods, one moss-covered bole of a black birch is illuminated by a random shaft of sun.
6/18/2024
Everything still drips from last night’s storm. I abandon the porch for a quick hike before the heat.
6/17/2024
Clear and still. A flicker’s eponymous chant from the sunlit crown of a black locust. The black raspberries in my yard are already blood-red.
6/16/2024
Cool and quiet, with the sun half-dimmed by thin clouds. A series of loud wingbeats from the forest. A gurgle from my gut.
6/15/2024
Deep blue sky—the dry high is here. In the broad sunbeam that warms my chest I watch the slow drift of mites and motes.
6/14/2024
Overcast at sunrise. The jumping spider who lives under my chair comes topside for a brief scuttle about. A red-bellied woodpecker bangs on his morning drum.
6/13/2024
A crow gurgling in dispute to the east, a jake-breaking truck to the west… the wood thrush with his pure, bell-like notes gets no respect.
6/12/2024
Cold and partly clear. A distant motorcycle accelerates and shifts gears. A cranefly drifts past, improbable as a steam-punk contraption.