When I left home this morning it was brilliantly sunny; when I reached the Nisqually National Refuge it was a dull gray.
It was so foggy that you could barely distinguish the sun through the fog,
or see the reeds in the canals.
I could have been disappointed, but I wasn’t. For a while, I simply focused on fog-muffled sounds around me. Though I saw few birds, their voices actually seemed louder and clearer than usual, miniature foghorns. Unfortunately, the deep THUNK of distant artillery fire at Fort Lewis suddenly halted that meditative moment.
So, I turned my attention to what could be seen, including many small birds like this Hutton’s Vireo that kept flying back and forth across the path at knee level:
And when there were no birds to be seen, I focused on the gaily-decorated berries that lined the road:
Surely no returning war hero has ever been greeted by lovelier decorations than those that lined my path today.