Hundreds of miles to the southeast, a hurricane churns. I sit in the dark listening to scattered rain, a faint rustle of a breeze, crickets.
September 5, 2008
The brown towers of dock seed below the railing tremble in sequence: a warbler in its fall plumage, a safe and anonymous greenish yellow.
September 4, 2008
At half-light, the scattered calls of migrant wood thrushes, dropping into the trees from their all-night flights and looking for breakfast.
September 3, 2008
The rending of a limb or small tree down in the hollow, followed by… nothing. A phoebe sings a few bars of his old song and falls silent.
September 2, 2008
In from the porch, I open a window to hear the crickets. Golden light spreads across the field. A series of heavy thumps under the floor.
September 1, 2008
A cool, clear autumn morning. Every few minutes, another alarm call breaks the silence: pileated woodpecker. Bluejays. A frantic squirrel.
5:00 am; the stars are bright…. August 31, 2008
5:00 am; the stars are bright. Orion straddles the ridge, and as I watch, a meteor streaks from his belt. A small, dark moth circles my face.
August 30, 2008
Out of the darkness and fog before dawn, a sudden yelp. Only when it moves farther off am I able to place it: a raccoon. The newest tenant.
August 29, 2008
Rain and fog. Nuthatches, a wood pewee, the liquid song of a winter wren. Behind me, loud thumps from some large animal under the house.
August 28, 2008
Steady drizzle after three weeks of drought. The quiet, continuous insect trill in the grass sounds the way I feel—however that may be.
August 27, 2008
Carolina wrens counter-singing from the springhouse, her Zzzzit! simultaneous with his TeakettleTeakettleTeakettle: the sound of the steam.
August 26, 2008
The hollow sound of claws on loose bark: another furious squirrel chase, this time in the dead elm. The chaser pauses to lick its genitals.
August 25, 2008
Rising late, I see the sun has arrived before me, burning through the haze, striping the wet woods with glistening paths, warming my seat.
August 24, 2008
A squirrel in a black walnut tree drops four nuts in a row. Clumsiness? Sabotage? Another squirrel comes running, and a noisy chase ensues.