I was singing "Oh What A Beautiful Morning" ("Oklahoma," Gordon MacRae) on the way to the barn. It was, indeed, beautiful. And then.... Chores finished and goats also enjoying the sunshine, on my way back to the house I noted grey sky to the west and thought, "Oh, those poor people down in the valley," and how lucky I was to have blue overhead. Yeah, well, hold that good thought, chickie. In the time it took to walk from the gate to the pen and up to the house, the fog had raced into the foothills and was covering my neighbor's vineyard. I had no more than put the buckets down in the kitchen and it was a grey, grey world. I couldn't even see the road. Drat! I'd been waiting for one more day of sunshine to make the trek to town. So much for that idea. I might not like it, but I'll drive in rain and I've driven in snow. I hate fog. Staying home seemed the better part of valor.
I had stepped out on the deck by the dining room in early afternoon and saw a coyote loping away down into the woods after doing a little window shopping by the chicken pen. Of course, I yelled and stomped, but she circled back and tried to get under my neighbor's fence before heading in under the trees. That's when I saw she had brought a pup along on a training mission. I know they need to eat, just not my hens.
Cam, of necessity, had ventured out and came by when her errands were done. She had, not Honey, but a young rescue dog she's been fostering, who waited in her truck. As quickly as it had come, the fog lifted and we sat out on the front porch to enjoy what warmth we could get and watch her dog and Bessie Anne play. The dogs were as happy as the humans to be outside.
It was a nice finish to a yucky day.