December 2, 2017 by Dave Bonta Heavy frost. When the sun strikes it, a faint mist rises from the yard. My father stops the car in the road to say he’s just seen a mink. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
November 19, 2013 by Dave Bonta A mink hunts in the creek-side meadow, weaving through currant bushes where juncos bathe and groom, neither paying attention to the other. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
November 12, 2013 by Dave Bonta The first half-inch of snow. A mink appears along the creek, looping over and under the snow-laden grass like a dark needle and thread. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
October 11, 2012 by Dave Bonta A large, dark weasel flushes a rabbit from cover and stops, rearing up on its hind legs: mink! We stare at each other with mutual disbelief. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads