tree frog – The Morning Porch

September 10, 2014 by Dave Bonta

It looks like rain, it smells like rain, but the morning passes without a drop. The goldfinches carry on being garrulous. A tree frog calls.

July 13, 2025
Another warm and humid morning. A brown butterfly lands on my book and closes its wings to show a row of eyespots: Little Wood Satyr. In the deep shade next to the springhouse, a twig snaps under a paw or hoof.
July 13, 2024
Cool with murky, cloud-mediated sunlight. A hummingbird perches on a walnut branch for thirty seconds, head swiveling all about.
July 13, 2023
Haze before the heat. The tulip poplar sprout in its circle of deer fence is waving its newest Mickey Mouse hands.
July 13, 2022
Cool and clear. An asterisk of thistledown floats by—high time for the goldfinches to be nesting, I think. But they’re still gadding about in the treetops.
July 13, 2021
Stifling humidity. With so many birds done nesting now, the catbird is the lone singer, echoing like a musician in an empty club.