frost – Page 5 – The Morning Porch

11/18/2014

Dave Bonta November 18, 2014 2

Yesterday the wet ground glowed in subtle, late-autumn colors; now it’s blank white. Frost on the storm door—a map drawn with knives.

Dave Bonta November 11, 2014 1

Sunlight glistens on the ground where pockets of frost have melted and slides across a length of spider silk drifting through the yard.

Dave Bonta October 28, 2013

At the base of the hill, the meadow is white with frost. A small deer carries the white torch of its tail up into the sunlit woods.

Dave Bonta October 21, 2013

Patches of frost in the yard. A yellow jacket from the underground nest in the garden lands on the shoulder of my sunlit coat.

Dave Bonta December 20, 2012 1

Frost has dusted just the two rosettes of mullein leaves beside the driveway: enormous white flowers. A cottontail rabbit bounds past.

Dave Bonta December 13, 2012 3

A heavy frost sparkles in the yard. A foot from my chair, the only four walnut-leaf nibs on the porch are clustered in the shape of a rune.

Dave Bonta November 21, 2012

Melting hoarfrost drips like rain. I watch one glistening drop change from red to yellow to violet as the sun inches into the deep blue sky.

Dave Bonta November 18, 2012 1

A heavy frost whitens tree branches fifteen feet off the ground. It’s so quiet, I can hear people talking a quarter mile away.

Dave Bonta November 15, 2012 1

The soft-edged shadows glimmer with frost; the stripes of dim sunlight glisten. Only the Carolina wren insists on clarity, clarity, clarity.

Dave Bonta October 13, 2012 1

The yard is white with the first frost, prostrate myrtle and stiltgrass leaves outlined as if in chalk. Leaves spiral down in the still air.

Dave Bonta March 30, 2012 3

Frost has silvered the grass where a rabbit grazes, one hop away from a spreading patch of sun. When a crow flies over he flattens his ears.

Dave Bonta January 11, 2012 4

Hard frost, as they say—but up close, it’s spikes and needles. As if in the absence of snow the ground grows its own fur against the cold.

Dave Bonta January 3, 2012 1

Finally, a good facsimile of a winter morning: enough snow to cover the grass, and on the window a tangle of stitches etched in frost.

Dave Bonta December 25, 2011

Cloudless at sunrise, and the yard a-glitter with frost. It’s dead silent, save for the stream’s gurgle and a raven croaking high overhead.