The tent seemed so bright - but without shadows. I opened the tent flap and had to think for a few seconds, trying to figure out what I was looking at. It was fog. The campsite was in a white out.
I couldn't see down to the water, even beyond 10 feet to the other side of the tarp hung outside of the tent. Sounds were muffled, and Monty and I jumped out of the tent to explore this strange atmosphere.
Two hours later, at around nine in the morning, the sun had begun to burn the fog off. I could see blue sky above me, but looking across the lake, the fog hung on.
I got the fire going, and put the kettle beside the flames.
Breakfast consisted of 3 packages of flavoured oatmeal, some dried mango, milk powder, sugar and boiled water all mixed in a bowl.
Wolves began to howl about a kilometer or so behind the campsite. Monty's ears went up. He moved a little closer to me and we both listened carefully. The sound was an inchoate mass of voices at first, then clear howls emerged. It was amazing, I'd never heard wolves before.
Nor had Monty.
It began to get a little cold, so I layered on a couple of t-shirts, my wool sweater and wool watch cap. Cirrus clouds dotted the sky, and a skim of fog boiled across the lake. A loon popped up then disappeared beneath the surface to fish.
Blue jays scolded in the near distance in the direction where the howling came from. Monty and I both watched the woods quietly, wondering what was beyond. I spent some of the afternoon reading John Le Carré's "Smiley's People". Great book.
Hope you had a good day,
Mungo
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