wren wiping his bill on the ridgeline of the roof his mate already brooding on a second clutch the first clouds always look innocent enough until they open their rainy mouths catbird singing out instructions for assembly a deer sneezing from her day bed in the weeds this is how one gauges one’s aptitude for silence in Figure 1 we can see how the trend lines wander

Dave Bonta

Versatile

the wren can nest like a head full of evil now saying nothing to save his place

Dave Bonta

Quarantine Walk

quarantine walk stopping at the sound of a jet I can’t stop marveling at how quiet it’s become under lockdown. In normal times I find the close horizons of this narrow hollow in the hills a bit claustrophobic, but now that there’s so much less noise echoing around in it from adjacent highways, the nearby quarry, and factories and businesses in town, it feels more spacious. A pair of local Canada geese fly over at dusk and I hold my breath, listening to their wingbeats. I no longer envy animals that live underground their superior soundproofing. last week’s rain that hush in the moss

Dave Bonta

The Hollow (46)

at the bottom of the mountain a small mountain of gravel riprap just enough soil for anise root where the hollow empties its silence into the gap old cellar holes locked gate stroking the touch-me-nots so they burst