Carolina wren – Page 17 – The Morning Porch

July 15, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Bluer than blue sky, a perfect morning, and all I hear is a robin tut-tutting and a Carolina wren going Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.

July 14, 2009 by Dave Bonta

The lone survivor of the yellow jacket holocaust under the porch floor two nights ago slowly circles my legs. My foot freezes in mid-tap.

July 1, 2009 by Dave Bonta

Everything drips; I don’t notice that the rain has stopped until the sun comes out. A burst of song from phoebe, catbird and Carolina wren.

September 27, 2008 by Dave Bonta

First one, then a second Carolina wren pops out from under the eaves, perches in the fretwork for a second, and flies off into the fog.

August 27, 2008 by Dave Bonta

Carolina wrens counter-singing from the springhouse, her Zzzzit! simultaneous with his TeakettleTeakettleTeakettle: the sound of the steam.

August 1, 2008 by Dave Bonta

Close your eyes and it could be any season: a Carolina wren; a scolding nuthatch; twittering finches; a loud, hoarse cough up in the woods.

July 14, 2008 by Dave Bonta

A Carolina wren stops by and pours out fifteen seconds of pure exuberance—just enough to remind me how much I’ve been missing. (Stay! Nest!)

December 28, 2007 by Dave Bonta

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.

December 6, 2007 by Dave Bonta

Clear and very cold. I hear squirrel teeth on walnut shell. The Carolina wren’s happiness motor turns over once, twice, then putts to life.

November 9, 2007 by Dave Bonta

A doe trailed by a scrawny 5-point buck. The soundtrack includes a train, a raven, geese, a wren, and a low-flying plane with a wide eraser.