frost

by underswansea

RCE_9339

Awoke to a morning fog. It still hovered around -10°. Lisa and I headed for the sloughs to watch the sun burn through.

Was passed by a convoy of Albertans, driving faster than they should in 350 four wheel drives, loaded down with all the extras, idiot lights, bigtires and lift kits, pulling trailers, heavy with skidoos. They all waved politely. They are trying to fit in. No doubt happy to have escaped the city. I counted my lucky stars that this would be the last I saw of them.

The birds were scarce. I heard a few. We decided to find higher land and get above the fog.

Slinky tore into a rotten log, snorting wildly, looking for rodents. The sun was low in the south. I can feel it coming back.

The birds chattered here and there. My eyes ain’t what they used to be. Lisa pointed them out flying below us.

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