Fog and Little Duck Feet

We awaken Friday morning to find that the landscape has disappeared. Thick fog obscures not only the opposite mountain, but the entire lake. Nothing can be seen beyond the rail of the deck. But the railing itself is amazing. Beautifully formed spider webs appeared between many of the rungs—courtesy of the tiny droplets of water that coat everything. Certainly the webs were not all woven overnight. Only now, all gleam out their presence.

           

            I see other changes once the fog burns off. I can count on less then ten fingers the remaining dragonflies. But the butterfly bushes have flowered and yellow and black swallowtails and monarchs frequent them. And the ducks have claimed the lake. Ten female mallards travel together. A single mom glides by with a duckling at her side, reminding me of a motorcycle and side car.  Six larger ducklings paddle in a row. Toward evening two male mallards show up—boys’ night out I guess.

            Best of all, the Jewel Weed wildflowers have begun to bloom. They’ve called back the hummingbirds. At first I think I see a huge insect darting by. It changes direction rapidly—like  a UFO, or so I’ve heard. Suddenly it hovers, feeding from the slipper-like blossom. Before I can grab my camera, it’s off again. One day I’ll be prepared and get a picture.