Marcia Bonta

  • Chasing Beetles

    For most of his life, our son Steve has had a serious case of beetle mania. By the time he was five he knew more about insects in general and beetles in particular than I did. Of course, that’s not saying much. I’ve always specialized in the colorful, charismatic insects such as butterflies, praying mantises,…

  • A Walk in the Park

    “Is there anything that can sting me?” our granddaughter Eva asked as she peered down at the lake bottom. She and I were swimming in Lake Jean at Ricketts Glen State Park. It was a hot day in early June, and this was ten-year-old Eva’s first experience of lake-swimming. Like her mother Luz she enjoys…

  • International Migratory Bird Day

    Saturday, May 12: International Migratory Bird Day. I spring awake at 6:00 a.m., pull out my earplugs, and start counting birds–eastern phoebe, black-capped chickadee, Baltimore oriole, tufted titmouse–as I dress, my windows wide open to a medley of birdsongs and calls this humid, warm morning. Out to the yard I rush and try to separate…

  • March Journal Highlights

    Arizona Sojourn March 20. Because a snowstorm developed the day before we were to leave for the Pittsburgh airport and flight to Memphis, Bruce hurried us out a day early, on March 7, and we barely made it down our road, chains on all four tires, through six new inches of snow. But at least…

  • February Journal Highlights

    I’ve been updating my journal from the notes I take in my pocket notebook. Here are some excerpts from the first half of February. Bucks hanging out together, still wearing antlers February 3. Three degrees at dawn and absolutely clear. Winds cleaned the air and lowered the temperature throughout the moonlit night. At first, when…

  • Another Batty August

    On a warm August evening, my husband Bruce and I sat in our living room, reading quietly. Suddenly, we were not alone. A bat, flying close to our heads, circled the room. Bruce called our son Dave up from the guesthouse to help shepherd the bat outside through the open front door, but it wouldn’t…

  • Blithe Spirit

    Spring came in on the March wind. The dawn chorus cranked into gear. Water streamed off the mountain and, in a few days, the snow and ice were gone. We were delighted to see bare ground again, but our granddaughter Eva was disappointed. Spring had long ago arrived at her Mississippi home. She had come…

  • Marooned

    Last January was a dream of a winter. By the middle of the month we had a foot of standing snow and I was out every bright, sunny day on my snowshoes. Birds and animals flocked to our feeders–32 American tree sparrows, 62 mourning doves, 40 dark-eyed juncos–along with a button buck, two cottontail rabbits,…

  • October’s Bright Blue Weather

    Another October has come and gone and Dad was not here to see “October’s bright blue weather.” Even though he was born in January in the midst of a blizzard, I always thought of October as his month. Maybe that’s because not an October went by without him reciting Helen Hunt Jackson’s “October’s Bright Blue…

  • Coyote Birthday

    Two summers ago I reached one of those milestone birthdays that I didn’t want to think about. “Don’t bother celebrating my birthday,” I told my family. “But Mom,” our son Dave protested, “I’m going to give you coyotes for your birthday.” I was skeptical that he could do so even though our adventure with coyotes…

  • Scents and Sensibility

    Forty years ago. It’s early autumn and I’m sitting behind my boyfriend on his motorscooter. We bump along a dirt road winding through the mountains of central Pennsylvania. “Stop!” I yell suddenly. The scooter slides to a halt. “I smell New Jersey tea,” I say as I hop off and rush through the shrubby mountaintop…

  • Passing the Torch

    Four-year-old Eva came to us last spring for a five week visit after almost a year in Honduras. “She’s forgotten most of her English,” her father Mark warned. He had continued to speak English to her, but her mother Luz and grandmother Clara, who were also visiting, conversed with her in rapid-fire Spanish. How could…