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Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

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December 28, 2007

Dave Bonta December 28, 2007

The stream this morning is full of auguries, such as: “If you want to be master of all you survey, live in a ravine.” Carolina wren song.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged Carolina wren, stream

December 27, 2007

Dave Bonta December 27, 2007

Chickadees and nuthatches are exchanging news, each in its own language as always. I’m watching snow, but hearing the hiss of sleet.

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

December 26, 2007

Dave Bonta December 26, 2007

The birds eating seeds on the back steps of the other house all fly at once, the rush of wings like a dovetail shuffle of cards.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow

December 25, 2007

Dave Bonta December 25, 2007

Christmas—the quietest morning of the year. The stream is a full chorus. A pileated woodpecker flaps overhead, cheering itself on.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged pileated woodpecker, stream

December 24, 2007

Dave Bonta December 24, 2007

Cold and windy. A chickadee’s two-note spring song echoes off the ridge. Behind the trees, floating above the horizon, one yellow cloud.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged chickadee

December 23, 2007

Dave Bonta December 23, 2007

Thick fog at dawn, gray against the snow. Slate-colored juncos call back and forth: Where are you? A wind comes up.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged fog, juncos

December 22, 2007

Dave Bonta December 22, 2007

Yakety-yak on the porch, dee dee dee in the birches, and everywhere a drip drip drip drip drip: gray solstice morning.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged black birch, chickadee, solstice

December 21, 2007

Dave Bonta December 21, 2007

The sun behind a wash of cirrus seems almost approachable: a bonfire, the eye of a wolf. All the small birds of winter calling at once.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow

December 20, 2007

Dave Bonta December 20, 2007

Distant sound of a rasp on wood: the porcupine’s last meal of the night. In the springhouse lawn, the silhouette of a cat taking a shit.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged porcupine, springhouse

December 19, 2007

Dave Bonta December 19, 2007

With the ground white, squirrels are visible hundreds of feet up in the woods. And when I shut my eyes, the trees reappear on my eyelids.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged gray squirrel

December 18, 2007

Dave Bonta December 18, 2007

Blue sky carved up by the ley lines of industrial man. Who else leaves such arrow-strait trails for mile after mile? Only Coyote.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged contrails, coyote

December 17, 2007

Dave Bonta December 17, 2007

Fresh snow curls in a graceful wave behind each tire of the first car to go down the driveway. Minutes later, the whine of a car in reverse.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow

December 16, 2007

Dave Bonta December 16, 2007

A lull in the storm, and it’s quiet—no sound of trucks or trains, no Sunday drivers. Squirrel scold-calls echo off the ice.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged gray squirrel, trucks

December 15, 2007

Dave Bonta December 15, 2007

The sun peeks out for half a minute from under a lid of clouds. The downy woodpecker finds a resonant bone of locust and rattles it hard.

Posted in Plummer's Hollow
Tagged downy woodpecker

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On This Day

  • July 3, 2024
    A deer moves through the sunrise meadow, head and ears visible above the weeds. The furious chittering of a small flock of goldfinches swirling past.
  • July 3, 2023
    Back from the city, wondering how everything could have gotten so much greener and more lush in just four days. The sun comes out. Leaves…
  • July 3, 2022
    Overcast at sunrise. The woodpeckers’ percussive breakfasts. A mosquito wanders over my propped-up feet.
  • July 3, 2021
    On a dark and cloudy morning, the green of the woods’ edge seems even more intense. The scarlet tanager sounds hoarse with longing.
  • July 3, 2016
    A worm-eating warbler ventures out to the woods’ edge, picking caterpillars from the leaves of a birch like an oxpecker grooming a buffalo.

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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