Ramblings on a foggy morning

My view of the mountains to the west of the cabin is completely back now. A lot of folks might not think this is anything spectacular, but after being encased in green leaves that kept me from seeing past the large oak in the foreground for six months, I think it’s pretty special. Even though I only have a view for the coldest months of the year, I will still sometimes wrap myself in a warm blanket, grab a hot chocolate and plunk myself in a chair on the back deck to watch the sun set in the west.

This morning the fog was thick enough to slice for breakfast toast. I couldn’t see anything, even with the headlamp I use when I walk the dogs. The weekend brought a cold, wet rain to my woods, the kind that is bone-chilling no matter how many layers I wear. Sunday morning it was sleeting for a few hours, and even after the precipitation turned to rain, it only did so by a degree or two.

Today marks the opening of Pennsylvania’s rifle deer season. As a result, the dogs didn’t get a walk out of the driveway this morning. Although the season is open for 2 weeks, the first 3 days and the weekends are the busiest times. Still, by the time the hunters no longer drive past the cabin in the pre-dawn hours, I will likely have two exercise-starved crazy dogs to deal with. For that reason, I am always glad when the activity of this season abates. Baby Dog doesn’t look anything like a deer, but Dog has been thought to be everything from a bear to a wolf to a deer, at not very great distances by people who should know better. So I take no chances.

For now, I will stay close to the cabin and wait for the fog to lift, wait for the hunters to move on and wait for the weather to clear before I wander deep into the woods again.