Skip to content

The Morning Porch/Patio

The view from my front porch (in Pennsylvania) or back patio (in London) every morning, in tweet-sized bites

  • About
  • Keyword index
  • Multimedia
  • Links
    • Via Negativa
    • Moving Poems
    • DaveBonta.com
    • Woodrat Photoblog
  • Home
  • Page 2

Monday January 11, 2021

Dave Bonta January 11, 2021 0

Cold and gray—the weather, but also me. A sharp-shinned or Cooper’s hawk comes flying low over the trees, clearly keen on getting breakfast.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged accipiters, Cooper's hawk, sharp-shinned hawk

Sunday January 10, 2021

Dave Bonta January 10, 2021 0

The last small cloud melts away. A white-breasted nuthatch calling: such an anxious sound, but who knows? Perhaps it’s a song of exultation.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged clouds, white-breasted nuthatch

Saturday January 09, 2021

Dave Bonta January 9, 2021 0

Clear and still. The tree’s long shadows stripe the white hillside like a zebra. Below the porch, a cat’s footprints.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged cats, snow

Friday January 08, 2021

Dave Bonta January 8, 2021 0

A pileated woodpecker banging its head, crows denouncing a raven, a chicken cheering for her latest egg… the local dinosaurs are restless.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged chickens, crows, pileated woodpecker, raven

Thursday January 07, 2021

Dave Bonta January 7, 2021 0

Cloudy and cold. The sound of crows trying to call up a mob. A squirrel perched on a high branch scratches behind its ear with a hind leg.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged crows, gray squirrel

Tuesday January 05, 2021

Dave Bonta January 5, 2021 0

The mockingbird in a bush beside the stream chases off other birds coming in to drink. A squirrel with only half a tail plods over the snow.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged gray squirrel, mockingbird, stream

Monday January 04, 2021

Dave Bonta January 4, 2021 0

Yesterday evening’s new-snow magic has completely dissipated, replaced by the familiar bleakness and a drip drip drip on the porch roof.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged snow

Sunday January 03, 2021

Dave Bonta January 3, 2021 0

Snow sky. Sparrows move through the meadow. A squirrel climbs a witch hazel, seemingly to verify that its pods have expelled all their seeds.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged gray squirrel, witch hazel

Saturday January 02, 2021

Dave Bonta January 2, 2021 0

A pause in the rain. My snow-plowed mound has turned to slush, which makes an interesting feature for a writer’s front yard: a literal slush pile.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged rain, snow

Friday January 01, 2021

Dave Bonta January 1, 2021 0

The sky is a blank slate. High in the trees, a squirrel emerges from its ovoid nest, looks around, and goes back in.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged clouds, gray squirrel

Posts navigation

← Previous 1 2 3 … 419 Next →

Primary Sidebar

On this date

    January 24, 2019

    Yesterday it was below freezing and rained; now it's above freezing and snow is coming down: dilettantish at first, then in a mad dance. …

    January 24, 2018

    Winter's back. You can see it in the dash of snow and thick crust of clouds, hear it in the train's horn and the querulous cries of crows. …

    January 24, 2017

    ‪The black-and-white simplicity of a fairy-tale snow that clings to every dark twig: a fragile magic that never lasts beyond eleven o'clock.‬ …

    January 24, 2015

    A wet snow has turned the trees Victorian, every last twig edged with filigree. The only sound from the valley is the rumbling of trains. …

    January 24, 2014

    Another bright, frigid morning. I could get used to this light without heat, snow like a white beach, a hissing of surf from the tall pines. …

    January 24, 2013

    New snow on every twig: a strange fur, this fine, dry stuff that forms so far below freezing. A vole rustles in the leaves beside the porch. …

    January 24, 2012

    Five degrees above freezing; a steady tap of meltwater on the porch roof. Crows. A blue, eye-shaped hole in the clouds eases shut. …

    January 24, 2011

    The ugly squat burdock has a thin and graceful shadow. It inches over the snow without getting snagged by the sharp sparkles of sun. …

    January 24, 2010

    A flat white sky, against which the cackling silhouettes of pileated woodpeckers flap and dive. My nostrils prickle with the smell of rain. …

    January 24, 2009

    Treetops sway wildly at first light, squeaking and clattering. A rabbit zigzags across the yard, pausing at each dark patch of bare ground. …

    January 24, 2008

    A crow caws, and I'm struck by how much it resembles a barking dog. More crows, and the impression persists: Arf arf arf! A murder of dogs. …

Other ways to follow

  • @morningporch on Twitter
  • RSS - entries
  • RSS - comments
  • Follow on Feedly

Related book

Cover of Ice Mountain with a linocut of a big ridgetop tree.
What I do after I sit on the porch. One winter and spring's daily walks distilled into short poems with linocut illustrations by Beth Adams.

Copyleft

Creative Commons License
All works on this site by Dave Bonta are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Header image

Detail from Paper Garden by Clive Hicks-Jenkins (used by permission)

Archives

Frequent topics

American goldfinch black birch black locust black walnut blue jays Canada geese cardinal Carolina wren catbird cherry tree chickadee chipmunks clouds cold crows deer downy woodpecker fall foliage fog frost garden gray squirrel hawks I-99 juncos lilac oaks phoebe pileated woodpecker rain raven red maple ruby-throated hummingbird snow snowflakes springhouse stream sunrise train trucks tufted titmouse tulip tree white-breasted nuthatch wind wood thrush
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Flickr
  • Vimeo
  • RSS

Copyright © 2021 The Morning Porch/Patio. Powered by WordPress and Stargazer.