Fog

Little dancing phantoms of steam and fog rising off the rivers…Lit sometimes softly, some times gleamingly by the soft morning sunlight.

Fingers of fog that looked like they were covered with great fluffy cotton gloves caressed the valleys and lay in blankets across the tops of mountains. It lay in the shadows of taller peaks and valleys while the tall peaks were kissed by the sunshine…

The whole thing was full of the golds, crimsons, yellows and darkened greens of fall foliage.

There was white mossy places around peat bogs that were covered in dew this morning, clinging to it as if it were frost…but it wasn’t.

The waters are all still as the water fowl have gone and its now too cold for any but the avid sportsmen to enjoy the waters and they like it quiet and slow so nary an eddy touched the surfaces of lakes. They are like mirrors.

Light gleaming through cattails all browned with fall…and through ornamental grasses in people’s yards and through the trees…flashing like a strobe light as we passed through.

The light was all dazzling on Saturday, but this morning…?

Well this morning it felt hushed and dark with heavy rain clouds which had yet to pass by.

It was so beautiful to me.

And while I was gone, I had chance to sleep on the ground which I just love and in the night, I heard wild turkeys and deer just outside my tent. They were there all night doing their thing. I loved it.

Even the chickadees greeted me when I arrived to camp. I was so blessed.

Image by Tom Gagnon here and here.