I was late... the mornings are coming earlier and first light caught me off guard. So I hurried, and my clear morning turned misty, then foggy, the further south I drove.
The fog provided a frame for my favorite farm, and heavy frost turned the pastures white.
I stood and watched as the light grew, shivering in the 25 degree temperatures, then turn to walk back to my truck. And in the pasture across the road, a group of horses walked across the frosty field toward the golden light, the mist rising.