The fog had nearly engulfed the house, swirling across the bay and up the cliffs. Most of the surrounding buildings were nearly gone. White, trailing mists swirled around as if they were hiding the secrets of a spooky movie.
And, it was kind of spooky when the fog across the street parted and filled in, parted and filled in, leaving vague impressions of something on the ground. Then parted and stayed that way a bit longer.
Foraging on the grass were two huge Canada geese and a handful of robins. Both species absent for lo these many months. The robins had their usual agitated hops, but the two geese were nearly stock-still. One was bent over, showing an expansive goose ass as it nibbled and rooted in the yellow grass. Its partner stood upright, almost at the back of the other goose.
The fog still wafted in and out, above and beyond. Perhaps the stationary goose had had its fill. Perhaps it was guarding its partner, looking intently through the fog. Perhaps they took turns doing so. It seemed that their only movement was caused by the fog itself.
The robins, however, performed their usual acrobatic dance and scuttle over the grass. They hopped in-and-out of the fog, and the fog swirled this-way-and-that around them. The lay of the land was the play of the land. And then the curtain of fog descended.