Notices by Dave Bonta (davebonta@mastodon.sdf.org)

In the dawn light, the tulip poplars glow a deep orange. It’s unseasonably warm. A spring peeper calls at the edge of the woods.

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In the dawn light, the tulip poplars glow a deep orange. It’s unseasonably warm. A spring peeper calls at the edge of the woods.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130017/

I’ve signed the Statement in Solidarity from the Writers Against the War on Gaza. Will you join me?
https://davebonta.com/2023/10/in-solidarity/

In solidarity

Words alone cannot stop the onslaught of devastation of Palestinian homes and lives, backed shamelessly and without hesitation by the entire axis of Western power. At the same time, we must reckon with the role words and images play in the war on Gaza and the ferocious support they have engendered: Israel’s defense minister announced the siege as a fight against “

https://davebonta.com/2023/10/in-solidarity/

When a news show invites on a military expert who does not have ties to the arms industry (as almost every retired general on legacy media does, though that's almost never disclosed), you get a much more nuanced discussion, it seems https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4GXfZEFrR4

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Dark at sunrise, but only a sprinkle of rain. Up in the woods, a deer rustles through freshly fallen leaves, breakfasting on acorns.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130016/

@mikeputnam Thanks for reading!

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Sunrise: pink and orange in the sky as on the hillside. A white-breasted nuthatch punctuates a white-throated sparrow’s song.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130015/

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A dozen geese come honking over the house, interrupting three crows sharing their excitement over a venison gut pile up in the woods.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130014/

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Clear and cold with a heavy inversion layer: sparrow sounds blend with beeping quarry trucks. In the dim light, all the autumn colors look like blood.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130013/

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First frost here and there like someone’s first white hairs. I crunch through it en route to the top of the field to watch the dawn approaching from 50 miles away.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130012/

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After a windy night, the forest is looking decidedly threadbare in its coat of many colors, illuminated each time the sun finds a hole in the clouds.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130011/

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In the half-light, a patter of hooves from just inside the woods. The grunts of a buck in rut. A dawn sky coming through the trees.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130010/

always a thrill to land a #haiku in tinywords https://tinywords.com/2023/10/20/39717/

Just got banned from posting on the Threads app for ‘violating community standards.’ Two hours ago I had liked a post by a fellow poet expressing outrage at the indiscriminate bombing of Gaza. Deleted the app immediately. Life is too short for that kind of BS.

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Between dawn and sunrise, a small rainstorm’s pleasant susurration drowns out everything else. As it eases, a Carolina wren takes over, caroling in a minor key.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130009/

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One degree above freezing and very still. I add my breath to the ground fog rising through yellow leaves into the sunlight.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130008/

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A flat white sky crossed by a crow. Woods’-edge chipmunks in a chipping contest. The color.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130007/

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Gloomy and cold at dawn. From the depths of the seed-laden goldenrod, the first, bright chips and whistles as the sparrow horde wakes up.

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130006/

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Still no frost. A Carolina wren putt-putts at the woods’ edge. From the powerline, a white-throated sparrow’s plaintive “Oh sweet Canada…”

https://morningporch.com/2023/10/159130005/