phoebe – Page 10 – The Morning Porch

May 28, 2008 by Dave Bonta

The flower heads on the white lilac are half-brown now. Two phoebes take turns flying into the bush, momentarily quelling insistent peeps.

March 27, 2008 by Dave Bonta

The snow is gone (again) and the first phoebe circles the barn and shed, expressing his satisfaction with the location, location, location.

October 8, 2025
Early-morning rain past, a chill breeze stirs in the tulip poplar beside the springhouse, four-lobed leaves waving like jazz hands on a thousand-armed bodhisattva, some green, some yellow.
October 8, 2024
Clear and cold. The red squirrel I’ve been hearing scold finally appears, racing up a bare walnut tree just as a deer hunter drags the first kill of the season out of the woods.
October 8, 2023
Windy and cold. In the wall of leaves at the woods’ edge, the first few fragments of what will be my winter sky.
October 8, 2022
Cold, clear, and quiet. The wind has almost died. Through yellow leaves, just a bit more sky.
October 8, 2021
Fog at sunrise. A doe leads her two grown fawns to the wild apple tree—an exuberant clatter of hooves.