A mouse climbs the wall behind me and disappears into the neighbors’ garden. The lonely dog at the end of the block barks on and on.
dogs
Wednesday June 12, 2019
My wife observes that it’s a morning for wrens and not for sparrows. A new pile of dogshit has acquired an entourage of green bottle flies.
Monday June 10, 2019
The resident terrier braves the rain to charge at a pigeon. A bus stopping in the next street makes a sound like a sigh.
Tuesday May 28, 2019
The lonely barking dog goes on and on, day after day. A newly opened rose on a bush I think of as ancient, though it’s younger than me.
Sunday May 26, 2019
From a garden across the way, the desolate barks of a dog locked outside. A breeze showers the table with firethorn blossoms.
Wednesday October 24, 2018
Cold wind. A white-throated sparrow sings its plaintive, quavering song and falls silent. I sit in the reek of dogshit from my boot.
Wednesday August 15, 2018
Overcast. I apologize to the flies still gathering where the dog poo had lain, missing their breakfast. A wood pigeon watches from the roof.
Monday July 23, 2018
Cloudless and hot. A magpie and a robin sit in different parts of the elder tree, open-eyed but still. The dog moves to the shade.
Tuesday July 17, 2018
The dog lies panting in the sun. A magpie’s rattle draws my gaze to a tree laden with green apples, just 50 feet away in a stranger’s yard.
Saturday June 30, 2018
The whole garden has acquired an aura of sadness from one bedraggled, discarded dog toy. The sun finds a spiderweb full of fallen petals.