Here in the clouds, one mourning dove has added an extra note to the beginning of his song, turning a dirge into a slow dance tune.
Plummer’s Hollow
March 28, 2009
Dark morning. The fox squirrel’s tail flickers orange from the back of the big red maple whose buds have swollen into dime-sized stoplights.
March 27, 2009
March 26, 2009
March 25, 2009
A harsh cooing from the pine tree closest to the porch, like a hawk crossed with a dove. Two crows fly in, scold for a minute, and fly off.
March 24, 2009
March 23, 2009
March 22, 2009
March 21, 2009
March 20, 2009
March 19, 2009
March 18, 2009
Bluebird, white-throated sparrow, a starling’s liquid note, and high overhead, a killdeer: the sky must be blue above the fog.
March 17, 2009
In the dim light of a misty morning, rain-slick surfaces glow: green lichens, purple raspberry canes, the yellow blades of foxtail millet.