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.
catbird
June 28, 2009
The pasture rose in front of my wall bears two white blossoms: bindweed raising its flared trumpets to the white sky. The smell of rain.
June 23, 2009
June 17, 2009
June 13, 2009
June 12, 2009
June 5, 2009
May 25, 2009
Heavy traffic on the driveway: a baby bunny races back and forth, followed by a strolling pair of catbirds and a robin’s methodical hop.
May 12, 2009
May 9, 2009
August 9, 2008
50°F. A daddylonglegs descends a goldenrod stem, slow as the minute hand on a clock. A catbird bursts from the lilac, crackling with alarm.
July 10, 2008
A phoebe darts and hovers, gleaning insects off the wet weeds. Yesterday, I watched a phoebe help feed four catbird fledglings in the lilac.
June 28, 2008
The catbird sounds self-critical, adding a brief aside after every phrase. The chipping sparrow’s never-ending alarm sets a cricket off.
June 17, 2008
A catbird solos in the half-light while wood thrushes trade lines. Small white moths visit the dame’s-rocket. Today, a funeral and a picnic.