Moo-cows in the Mist

Last weekend at the farm wasn’t typical of a North Central Texas January, if there is such a thing.  Beginning Friday morning and all through Sunday, we had unseasonably warm temperatures as high as the mid 60s, mist and drizzle.  Thick fog muffled our footsteps and left everything covered in dew.

Every blade of grass and small plant was decked out in shimmering beads of moisture.

Even the tiny silver-dollar-size spiderwebs were bejeweled.

The moo-cows, as we called them when we were kids, appeared out of the mist with soft appeals for a bale of hay or some range cubes.

Their coats looked frosty from the moisture clinging to them.

The dogs ran ahead and disappeared into the fog.

Kota made a side trip to the lower stock tank and flushed a couple of dozen ducks from their resting places.

The air was so heavy you could hardly hear their wing-beats as they rose from the pond and circled overhead.

The moisture wasn’t especially needed this week, as we have had recent rains.  However, we will never turn it down.  And I’ll never turn down a walk through the pasture in the magical mist.