Earth Day – The Morning Porch

May 25, 2024April 22, 2010 by Dave Bonta

Every day is the earth’s birthday. The largest peony plant, though still uncurling, already sports ten small planets midwived by ants.

June 29, 2025
Partly cloudy, humid and still. A hen turkey clucks once from the woods’ edge. I slap myself awake, killing mosquitoes.
June 29, 2024
Heavily overcast; 88% humidity. I’m clapping out the lives of mosquitoes, one after another—too big and slow for their own good. A breeze springs up.
June 29, 2022
Cold and clear. Three waxwings join the sun high in the dead crown of a black locust, yellow bellies aglow.
June 29, 2021
Sunny and hot. The meadows hum with insects. In the marsh, a male and female goldfinch are gathering cattail down for their nest.
June 29, 2016
On the underside of a porch railing, a hornet gathers a mouthful of wood. A small yellow leaf caught in a spiderweb twirls in the wind.