Overhead, wispy mare’s tails, and on the patio, drifts of feathers where a wood pigeon met its end—undoubtedly the work of a cat.
Plummer’s Hollow
Saturday August 31, 2019
Breezy and cool. A coal tit pulls a seed from the tube feeder and carries it up to a branch to hammer it open, wedged between her feet.
Sunday July 07, 2019
Watching the ox-eye daisies slowly open, like the sun glimpsed after days of clouds—so predictable and yet such a thrill.
Wednesday June 12, 2019
My wife observes that it’s a morning for wrens and not for sparrows. A new pile of dogshit has acquired an entourage of green bottle flies.
Wednesday June 05, 2019
Windy. A blackbird sings atop the neighbors’ aerial—his sharp outline against the sky. I watch a dandelion seed head for signs of flight.
Sunday May 26, 2019
From a garden across the way, the desolate barks of a dog locked outside. A breeze showers the table with firethorn blossoms.
Tuesday May 21, 2019
Breezy and cool. The yard rings with oriole song. A Cooper’s hawk skims the treetops, wings lit up by the rising sun.
Monday May 20, 2019
A hen turkey going past the house catches sight of me and freezes. Nervous clucks, then the huge bird taking flight with surprising grace.
Sunday May 19, 2019
Humid and warm—our first truly summer-like day. The wood pewee, who just returned yesterday, drawls his two-note song from the woods’ edge.
Saturday May 18, 2019
Chipmunks chatter alarm up in the woods, and a moment later the squirrels. I remember the terrified bleating I heard at 1:30 in the morning.