cardinal – The Morning Porch/Patio

Sunday January 12, 2020

Dave Bonta January 12, 2020

A yellow gash appears in the clouds to the east and heals up again. The cardinal attacks his reflection. Military jets howl over, unseen.

Dave Bonta December 9, 2019

Steady rain. The cardinal makes two sorties against his reflection in the window and retreats to the shelter of the cedar tree.

Dave Bonta May 7, 2019

The cardinal attacks his reflection then sings in triumph. The Cooper’s hawk skulks out of the woods like a ninja. Today I’m the cardinal.

Dave Bonta April 11, 2019

The cardinal whose doppelganger lives in the upstairs window taps twice and flies off—just going through the motions. I sneeze at the sun.

Dave Bonta March 8, 2019

The sun’s slow fadeout. Two male cardinals travel together to the stream and back again—flashes of color in an increasingly monochrome yard.

Dave Bonta February 1, 2019 1

Snow fine as fingerprint powder; it’s almost zero. Two cardinals and a jay in the crabapple tree wait their turn to drink from the spring.

Dave Bonta December 10, 2018

In the red center of a berry-laden barberry bush, a male cardinal turns all about, gorging. When he flies, so much of its red goes with him.

Dave Bonta March 25, 2018

Cold as a well under a deep blue sky torn by the distant roar of military jets. The morning singers carry on: cardinal, song sparrow, robin.

Dave Bonta March 12, 2018

Cold and gloomy, but the yard seethes with birds: juncos, cardinals, wren. A hundred yards away, a hawk sits on a limb, bedeviled by crows.

Dave Bonta March 5, 2018

Another wintry morning, and I’m marveling at the sharpness of the air in my lungs, the sun in my face, the blue sky, the cardinal’s song.