A house sparrow fills up at the suet feeder then immediately regurgitates it for an offspring, who begs with open bill and wings a-tremble.
Saturday June 08, 2019
Up at 4:15, I go out into the already light garden. A wren sings from the ash. Excited cries of children, who must be setting off on a trip.
Friday June 07, 2019
Gusts of wind salted with rain. A bumblebee somehow manages to hold steady, hovering in front of a kerria rose, then going to the elder.
Thursday June 06, 2019
Windy and cool. A black and white cat appears on the back wall, then drops out of sight. A minute later a grey tabby takes its place.
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.
Tuesday June 04, 2019
A neighbor to the east is talking about his test scores. A neighbor to the west rips down an old fence. Overhead, jets hidden by the clouds.
Monday June 03, 2019
The garden is alive with wrens: four fat fledglings begging as their parents hop about, combing every leaf for morsels, but pausing to sing.
Sunday June 02, 2019
If anything were to happen to the only big tree in this block, we’d know so much less about what the wind is up to, or the goldfinches.
Saturday June 01, 2019
Contrails spread into mare’s tails; every cloud in the sky is man-made. And there goes a red helicopter straight out of a children’s book.
Friday May 31, 2019
A trio of great tits foraging in the shrubbery. A bumblebee flies over, drawing my eye to the swifts circling high against the clouds.