Late spring is when the morning fog stretches from the coast, up and over the mountains, and creeps into our little valley. It shrouds the hill tops in mist. It dampens the sounds of life. The songbird chirp is not quite so sharp. The coo of the morning dove echos.

It is peaceful.

On those mornings, like today, the dogs love to run. I like to sit and drink my coffee.

In the quiet, still morning two dogs let loose in the area we know as the “dog run”. It is maybe a third of an acre. It is fenced to 1) to keep the dogs from chasing the wildlife to Hades and back, and 2) keep the bigger wildlife from a snack of dog. We always go with them because fences may or may not (at any given time) accomplish the above purposes.

The Dog Run

This morning was so peaceful. I threw the tennis balls for a bit and then let them explore and run.

You can do it, Gracie!

On Patrol

George and his tennis ball

Behind the tree sniffing out trouble

This morning, in this place, there were no complications.