As Ki and I stepped out for potty business, the deer were drinking from the spring. I saw a few but this was the best shot. We know why our winter garden hasn't fared so well.
The deer spied us and white-flagged as they left. I heard the twang of wire as they tipped the fence leaving.
Sunday night the moon had lighted the valley but tonight we were wrapped in tight fog. You could almost hear it moving. I half expected to see the ship-wrecked sailors march through our valley as they did in the movie "Fog".
Ki attended to business as I stood lightly dressed, feeling the fog actually touch me. A coyote called from the new pond and waited for an answer. Was it a call to mate or to hunt? The beauty nor the music was not lessened by my lack of understanding.
I hear cattle lowing from the next farm, and the calls of night birds were sprinkled here and there. In the distance, a owl calls to the night.
The night was dressed heavily in fog. No stars nor moon to see but the sounds were mysterious and almost hypnotizing in this valley we call At The Farm.
