Walking out before “first light” in the morning, the sliver of a moon hangs like a stylized bowl just a bit above the horizon. Once the sky lightens enough to photograph though, that bare sliver fades into the background.

By the time the shot above was taken, three separate flights of whistling ducks had flown over. Two were small, four or five birds each, but one was the large flight I’ve been seeing for the last week or so.

Once again, just the barest hint of that morning fog is rising from the bayou. It seems to follow the elevation of the land. The hundred year flood plain curves around me here. And the fog always seems to flow along it’s boundary. Kind of like the floods of Harvey, the waters lapped at my back property line while covering most of the surrounding area.

Traffic on the bypass is louder today, it seems to ebb and flow with the fog… louder on foggy mornings, less so in the clear. This morning’s sounds are mostly the beep… beep… beep of heavy equipment. You know the sound, it started out being the sound of a machine in reverse… now I think the direction doesn’t matter… it kinda defeats the purpose when the sound becomes so ubiquitous as to not register any longer as a threat…

For just a few moments as the sun comes up,  the fog embraces the porch with just the lightest of feathery touches, before withdrawing as if in fear of the orange glow behind the trees to the east.

My morning muse ends with the coffee in my cup as the glow spreads through the sky…

Y’all stay safe, stay healthy, and Pray for our Nation and the world. And whatever you do, exercise your privilege to cast your vote… no matter what your choice might be, this country can only work if we all participate in making it so. Go vote.