wind – The Morning Porch/Patio

Tuesday December 11, 2018

Dave Bonta December 11, 2018 0

The wind sounds even colder hissing through the leaves that still cling to an oak at the woods’ edge. I pull down my cap against the sun.

Dave Bonta December 7, 2018 2

The ground is once again white, and there’s a wind. A dry, brown oak leaf dropping from the sky rocks from side to side like a small boat.

Dave Bonta November 28, 2018 0

Bitter wind, its shifts and cross-currents discernible in wide-spaced flakes. A chickadee’s call: the one for putting rivals in their place.

Dave Bonta November 10, 2018

First snowfall of the year—a quarter inch. Newly fallen oak leaves roll across it, or scuttle like crabs on their curled lobe-tips.

Dave Bonta November 3, 2018

Oak leaves that turned brown just a few days ago already rattle instead of rustling. A hunter in gray camouflage emerges from the woods.

Dave Bonta October 18, 2018

Clear and cold. Over the wind, the rustle of a squirrel bounding through waves of dead grass, and the high, thin calls of a lone waxwing.

Dave Bonta October 13, 2018

Wind in the trees: that ghostly not-quite speech. In last night’s dream, a human centipede pacified its prey with cliches about self esteem.

Dave Bonta October 12, 2018

As many hours as the wind has been blowing, a strong gust brings still more leaves. A tulip poplar samara helicopters almost to the porch.

Dave Bonta September 8, 2018

The Saturday laughter of children. Drizzle seems as if it’s impending, but there’s only a light breeze and the distant whisper of trains.

Dave Bonta July 3, 2018

Though warmer and more fitful, last night’s breeze is still blowing. Blackberry canes wag. Even the dead grass gets into the swing of it.