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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

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August 29, 2009

Dave Bonta August 29, 2009

I glimpse the mother doe and her fawns running just inside the woods’ edge, hear the clatter of hooves going past. A minute of almost-sun.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged deer

August 28, 2009

Dave Bonta August 28, 2009

Another overcast morning, with wind and the sound of trucks out of the east. Two thrushes and a gnatcatcher move silently through the lilac.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged gnatcatcher, lilac, trucks, wood thrush

August 27, 2009

Dave Bonta August 27, 2009

The low cloud ceiling is a tabula rasa for the arabesques of chimney swifts. A high-pitched rasping in the trees–some insomniac katydid.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged chimney swifts, katydids

August 26, 2009

Dave Bonta August 26, 2009

In the light breeze, one clump of cattails waves out of sync; the sound of chewing. A few perfunctory phrases from a red-eyed vireo.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged cattails, red-eyed vireo

August 25, 2009

Dave Bonta August 25, 2009

Out around 9:00, in time to hear the dog-day cicadas start up. If it weren’t for cicadas, how would we know what the sun sounds like?

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged cicadas

August 24, 2009

Dave Bonta August 24, 2009

A bristly white caterpillar on the freshly painted white porch railing. The sky too is white, and the lawn with its banks of snakeroot.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged caterpillars, snakeroot

August 23, 2009

Dave Bonta August 23, 2009

Halfway up the ridge, the hectoring alarm-calls of a squirrel. A few seconds later, a deer joins in: explosive snorts. The sun comes out.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged deer, gray squirrel

August 22, 2009

Dave Bonta August 22, 2009

Below the porch, a generic chirp from a warbler of indeterminate species. I remember the Central American term for such skulkers: chipes.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged fall warblers

August 21, 2009

Dave Bonta August 21, 2009

Between showers, a shallow, orange V careens through the cherry’s dead limbs. Mating craneflies? No, a large beetle with orange elytra.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged beetles, cherry tree

August 20, 2009

Dave Bonta August 20, 2009 2

The fog reveals as much as it hides. Who knew the trees held so many spiderwebs? The birds are mostly quiet now; it’s cricket spring.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged crickets, fog, spiderwebs

August 19, 2009

Dave Bonta August 19, 2009

A horse fly—rare visitor—rides my parents’ car down the road, then follows me onto the porch. It takes two flyswatter blows to do her in.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged horsefly

August 18, 2009

Dave Bonta August 18, 2009

What wind is this, disturbing the stifling tranquility of the morning? The cherry tree wags its thick webwormed finger. A sudden downpour.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged cherry tree, fall webworms, rain

August 17, 2009

Dave Bonta August 17, 2009

Dawn fog lifts and pauses, so it’s clear to a height of ten feet, then white, then the crescent moon. A red-bellied woodpecker’s slow chant.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged fog, moon, red-bellied woodpecker

August 16, 2009

Dave Bonta August 16, 2009

Something stirs in the silky dogwood across the road. I stroll over: blue berries, a warbler dressed for travel in its yellow-green suit.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged fall warblers, silky dogwood

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On This Day

  • June 9, 2024
    Breezy and cool. The briefest of showers comes tapping on the roof. A tall dame’s rocket sways in front of the porch, all its flowers…
  • June 9, 2023
    A slight sheen on the leaves at sunrise—what passes for rain these days must’ve fallen. The faintest smell of soil. An ovenbird’s endless lesson.
  • June 9, 2022
    Just past sunrise, a clearing wind. I look up from the Eastern Europe of my book to flame-bellied clouds, the forest all astir.
  • June 9, 2021
    Overcast and cool. In the garden, the bindweed has yet to flower, but its leaves are busy gathering holes.
  • June 9, 2020
    Silver-spotted skippers chase over dame’s-rocket. A catbird balancing on a dead weed stalk plucks a green bug from a blade of grass.

See all...

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.

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

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