Here in the incomparable San Luis Valley, we have fog in winter. It’s glorious amazing beautiful and I had never seen it before. On very cold days it wraps the tiniest twigs on the smallest branches in frost.
In spring time, in spring snows, fog doesn’t freeze, it creates dreams. Over this past weekend we got 20 inches of wet snow and, of course, Bear and I were VERY happy, not least because we got “our” golf course back. Monday we took a blissful snowy walk in the wandering fog and the mist rising from the evaporating snow. We walked across the golf course, down a “road” that the carts use to get from place to place, and through the broken barbed wire fence leading to the driving range (pasture). We stood under a tree for a moment (I have recently gotten over a serious illness AND a pulled Achilles tendon so I’m not hurrying anywhere for now). The fog across the distant San Juans revealed and concealed blue and white shapes of mountains. The winter trees in the distance softly dropped clumps of snow. It was a beautiful morning.
Bear was suddenly all alertness and Dusty had taken his “I see a squirrel pretty far off” position. I grabbed Dusty’s collar and told him to sit. Following the line of Bear’s nose I saw it. Running as lightly as a dream through the mist across the untouched snow, was a red fox. It’s the first fox I’ve ever seen. Coming home, watching the sky, I saw a golden eagle making her way ever higher in calm circles in the dispersing fog.