A soft evening

If there's one prevailing weather condition we have in our area, it's fog. Mist. Vapor. Haze. Whatever you want to call it, it's here except in the summer when it's too warm.

This fog can be treacherous in the winter, when it freezes and forms a micro-layer of ice on everything. We have a friend whose vehicle slid off the road in such conditions, and he has a permanently injured back from the accident.

And yet, in its softer moods, the fog can be beautiful. The other evening, as Don and I took Darcy for his walk, the mist ebbed and flowed around us. There was just a hint of pastel color in the western sky. Sometimes the fog completely enveloped us, then it would drain away. Every minute, the landscaped seemed to change.

In fact, it could change almost second by second. It was like the fog was a living, breathing thing, and we were right there in the midst of it.

It was one of those walks where even when we had our backs to the western sky, we kept turning around to watch the changing conditions.

A soft evening indeed.

Misty Mountains

Years ago, we had friends who tried to get a bed-and-breakfast started out of their large and beautiful home. They christened their business "Misty Mountain Lodge" and, for a variety of reasons, it was not a financial success and they closed down. (There are several Misty Mountain Lodges currently in existence around the country, but none are operated by these friends.)

Anyway, at the time I thought "Misty Mountain Lodge" was something of an unusual name since our mountains weren't particularly misty.

The same can't be said for our current location. We have a lot of mist here. A LOT, especially in cooler months. As evidence, consider the following photos:

Bonus photo: Believe it or not, there is a whole flock of turkeys on the road in this photo. By the time I got my camera out of my pocket, they had moved juuuuust out of sight through the fog.

Should Don and I ever consider opening a B&B (which we won't), we could at least name it Misty Mountain Lodge and have truth in advertising.

Foggy trees

We get a lot of fog in our little valley, especially during the cooler months. A few days ago before sunrise, I noticed the tops of some trees across the way, poking out.

As the sun rose, the fog turned white instead of gray, and more trees became visible.

At last the fog started thinning out.

It kind of came and went.

Finally it began to clear.

Magical.

Fog dome and moon pix

Early one morning a couple weeks ago, after a bit of rain the day before, I took Mr. Darcy out on his morning walk.

I was startled to see this dome of fog on a distant hillside. I'd never seen anything like it. The hilltop at that particular spot is flat, not domed, so the fog was making its own dome.

Way cool.

A couple days later, I got up very very early and saw a beautiful full moon just setting. Following are the shots I took as it progressed.

Added bonus: a bit of sunset color.

Despite chaos and strife, war and loss, it's still a beautiful world. Sometimes it's hard to remember that, but it's what keeps me going.

Random pictures

Here are some random pictures from the last few weeks:

Arrow-leaf balsamroot in bloom, late May.

Apple blossoms from our young apple trees, late May.

Chipmunk.

A puddle by a drainpipe on a neighbor's property. See the little black dot on the pipe?

It's a fledgling blackbird. The parents were twittering anxiously overhead as I took these shots.

With Lydia and Lihn (Younger Daughter's Quaker parrot) in the garden.

I usually bring Lydia out to the garden with me and let her wander while I work. I call her the Guardian of the Garden.

Here she is, zonked out at the base of the Stanley plum tree.

"Huh? What?"

Five red-winged blackbird eggs.

Their nest is in the cattails of our pond.

A rain squall.

Although we've had some warm days (even one or two hot ones), this spring has been remarkably wet and chilly. On June 11 we dipped to just a hair above freezing. Thankfully the tomatoes didn't die.

On such days, the warmth from the wood cookstove is welcome (even in June).

Naughty robin, eating my strawberries.

Don has a faithful audience as he presses hamburger patties for our neighborhood potluck (it was our turn to host).

It's currently daisy season.

Suddenly we have cedar waxwings in the garden. Gorgeous birds.

Notice the one on the left has just caught a butterfly.

However they're also after the strawberries.

Lydia greets the neighbor's alpacas.

Morning sun through some fog.

Dawn sky.

I'm still waiting for the killdeer eggs to hatch. Because the chicks are precocial, the incubation period is fairly long -- 28 days -- and since this couple has nested smack in the center of the garden, it's preventing us from doing anything heavy-duty (using the tractor to bring in additional tires for beds, for example). I can't even pull weeds around the area. I'll be glad when this nest hatches.

Both parents incubate the eggs. It's charming to watch the "changing of the guard" -- the bird getting off the eggs does a little bowing-pecking ritual to its mate, and makes barely-audible cooing sounds, before relinquishing the nest.

Enjoy the spring.