The Morning Porch

May 26, 2009

Dave Bonta May 26, 2009

Soft taps from a burdock leaf under the drip line: it’s raining. A rose-breasted grosbeak drops into the springhouse marsh to get a drink.

Dave Bonta May 25, 2009

Heavy traffic on the driveway: a baby bunny races back and forth, followed by a strolling pair of catbirds and a robin’s methodical hop.

Dave Bonta May 24, 2009

For an hour now, the red-bellied woodpecker has been trilling almost non-stop: half yell, half peal. Fleabane blooms beside the sidewalk.

Dave Bonta May 23, 2009

The lilacs are fading fast. Where did the spring go? A hummingbird moth pays court to the dame’s-rockets—the new avatars of purple scent.

Dave Bonta May 22, 2009

The Cooper’s hawk chases a redtail out of the woods—guided missile, staccato cry—and lands in a tall yard tree. The first yellow iris.

Dave Bonta May 21, 2009

A female indigo bunting drops into the cherry tree to snack on tiny tent caterpillars, reaching daintily into their vase-shaped nest.

Dave Bonta May 20, 2009

A new birdsong at sunrise: “Pleased pleased pleased to MEETcha!” Likewise, I mutter, trying to place the name. Ah—chestnut-sided warbler.

Dave Bonta May 19, 2009

Strong sun, and the air so clear, I can see the tiniest floating krill. A cranefly seems enormous—until a pileated woodpecker flops in.

Dave Bonta May 18, 2009

Half a degree above freezing at sunrise, and the sky is as clear as it gets. A towhee sings a backwards version of its song.

Dave Bonta May 17, 2009

A red-eyed vireo beside the porch with his back to the cold wind, neck feathers buffeted into a crest, singing in the weak sunlight.

Dave Bonta May 16, 2009

A phoebe hovers beside its nest under the springhouse eaves, then lands above it, bug still in beak, tail like a tapping foot: ah, marriage.

Dave Bonta May 15, 2009

Sun through fog. Animals emerge and vanish like actors in a play, bringing their cries and silences: goldfinches, a raven, a pair of deer.

Dave Bonta May 14, 2009 1

A pair of tanagers foraging in the rain. The scarlet male trails the drab female onto a branch two feet from the porch, returning my gaze.

Dave Bonta May 13, 2009

Two male indigo buntings, twice as blue as the sky, clash in the air and land on adjacent branches. One sings, the other flies off.