Creatures glide thru the fog shrouded morning like ghostly apparitions.
A pair of nilgai antelope materializes for a moment and then vanishes in cloaking mist.
Foggy mornings evoke a sense of mystery, as if something special might suddenly emerge from the soft gray haze. Whitetail deer are on the prowl, and creeping fog disguises their movements.
The bucks are searching for does, and occasionally the boys paths cross as they roam. Looming out of tall grass, a windmill stands wreathed in swirling mist.
Beneath still blades a buck maintains constant vigil over his doe. A distant mesquite is silhouetted by the rising sun whose warming rays slowly dissolve clinging clouds that hug the ground like steam rising from the earth. From the uppermost branches of an ancient mesquite a pair of cara caras silently watch the morning reveal itself below their lofty perch. A handsome drop tine buck stares out from the lifting haze, sunlight glinting off wet antlers.
Swiveling his head, another buck peers back into misty woods, sensing something in the mantle of mist dancing thru distant trees. Sunlight exposes myriad spider webs glistening like pearls draped thru the wildlands.
Deer soundlessly pass on dampened forest floor as morning rituals begin.
Rubs must be made, scrapes attended to as the primordial dance of doe and buck commences.