Sunrise gutters in a gray bank of clouds. It’s cold. My breath hangs in the air like winter’s ghost.
clouds
April 25, 2025
Under a monochrome cloud cover, all the earth tones of blossoming oaks and birches, catkins alive to the lightest brush of a breeze.
April 23, 2025
A smear of sun, strong enough to cast thin shadows. Four white-throated sparrows trade variations of the same song like old-time fiddlers, trying slightly different arrangements, switching keys.
April 22, 2025
Cloudy with patches of light and dark and the smell of burnt caramel from town. The woods’ edge is gauzy with catkins and tiny leaves. A hint of moisture on my cheek.
April 21, 2025
Heavily overcast. A raven flies over with a falsetto croak. A field sparrow circles the house, declaring his territory.
April 19, 2025
White sun in a white sky. Off in the woods, the tattered white flag of a shadbush in bloom.
April 18, 2025
The sun is at half-power, shining through cirrus clouds, the still-bare branches of oaks and black birches, and the trill of a goldfinch, which shows no sign of stopping anytime soon.
April 16, 2025
A cold wind rummaging through the forest, mixing up the sounds of crows and trains and sirens. The sun appears for a second or two at a time.
April 15, 2025
Two towhees tweet as I drink my tea. Finally they meet at the woods’ edge, tails flared, and one flees. Blue holes appear in the clouds.
April 14, 2025
Against the gray sky, one small dash of yellow at the woods’ edge: a male goldfinch. Nearby, the slow chant of a blue-headed vireo.
April 13, 2025
It’s still cool and overcast, but the daffodils have straightened up and bright spots are appearing in the clouds. A hen turkey walks past, head down, selecting small stones for her gizzard.
April 12, 2025
Cold and heavily overcast. A gray squirrel emerges from the woods like a ghost, seeming to float over the rain-darkened leaf duff, fur the color of the sky.
April 8, 2025
A patchwork sky at sunrise with a bitter wind. The daffodils’ cups are all overturned. A few lost snowflakes straggle past.
April 2, 2025
Gray sky with a smudge of sun, as bright as the half-out forsythia against the woods. A woodpecker and his echo. The rumble of freight.