From a nearby window, an alarm clock beeps on and on. Such a relief when it finally stops! A fitted sheet on the line fills with wind.
wind
Monday August 19, 2019
A breeze keeps opening my notebook and riffling the cover on the bicycle behind me as I sit listening to the small grumbles of my stomach.
Saturday August 10, 2019
High gusts of wind. The ash tree—the only tall tree on the block—rocks and sways. A flock of goldfinches hurtles past.
Thursday June 20, 2019
The tall ash tree sways in the wind and the blackbird’s song sways too. R. points out a juvenile blue tit, its markings still a bit blurry.
Friday June 07, 2019
Gusts of wind salted with rain. A bumblebee somehow manages to hold steady, hovering in front of a kerria rose, then going to the elder.
Wednesday June 05, 2019
Windy. A blackbird sings atop the neighbors’ aerial—his sharp outline against the sky. I watch a dandelion seed head for signs of flight.
Saturday April 27, 2019
Bright and cold. The wind sounds different from the last time it blew this hard, more hush and rustle—tiny new leaves’ ambitious whispers.
Wednesday April 03, 2019
The dead are restless, through no fault of their own: last year’s leaves shuffled about by the wind. But the sun is strong. A phoebe calls.
Monday April 01, 2019
Wind turns the pages of my notebook. The sun is bright, and I’m feeling happy for the small woodpecker who’s found a very loud branch.
Tuesday March 12, 2019
For every red-bellied woodpecker trill, the white-breasted nuthatch has a response, low and nasal. A cold wind on my freshly barbered neck.