The butternut chronicle: Nov. 6, 1998

This entry is part 6 of 14 in the series The Butternut Chronicle

Last dream before waking: I am visiting a little-known reservation for an obscure sect of Messianic Jews in central Pennsylvania on land granted them by William Penn. I remember a string of white ponies approaching me one by one and thrusting their wet noses into my face. A little later, I’m walking in my stockinged …

The butternut chronicle: Nov. 4, 1998

This entry is part 4 of 14 in the series The Butternut Chronicle

Out on the porch at 6:30, coffee and a cigarette. Thirty-two degrees and clear as a bell (interesting synaesthesic simile, that!). Venus and the crescent moon are less than a hand’s breadth apart. The birds are very active and vocal this morning, in contrast with yesterday. Carolina wren begins the dawn chorus, as usual, followed …

The butternut chronicle: Nov. 3, 1998

This entry is part 3 of 14 in the series The Butternut Chronicle

Thirty-four degrees at dawn, with small flakes of snow falling into my coffee. Everything’s quiet except for a small flock of chickadees, irrepressible as ever. The biggest change is that my beautiful aspens have all been stripped bare. I feel bereft. The birches and cherry trees that still held onto their leaves yesterday have been …

The butternut chronicle – Nov. 2, 1998

This entry is part 2 of 14 in the series The Butternut Chronicle

6:30 a.m. Fifty-four degrees and overcast, with rain imminent. All Souls/Dí­a de los Muertos. I can make out the dim figures of deer moving through the trees, hear the rustle of their hooves in the dry leaves. The only birdsong comes from the ever-ebullient Carolina wren. Without that, the mood could fairly be described as …

The butternut chronicle – Nov. 1, 1998

This entry is part 1 of 14 in the series The Butternut Chronicle

I recently found a journal I had kept for a few weeks back in November of 1998, consisting mainly of nature notes, all recorded from my front porch. At that time, an old butternut tree in my yard dominated the view, so I’m calling this the Butternut Chronicle. The American butternut (Juglans cinerea) is on …

The Morning Porch, five years on

This entry is part 20 of 20 in the series Poetics and technology

Today is the fifth birthday of The Morning Porch. I thought I’d mark the occasion by sharing some lesser-known facts about the blog and my daily writing practice. 1. You’d think that this discipline would have made me a better, more assiduous devoteee of the early morning hours, but if anything, it’s been the opposite. …