On a windless morning, Aki and I crested a small rise, which normally offers views of mountains and glaciers. Fog shrouded all these marquee things. It also framed a line of spruce trees and softened their reflection in the lake, without effort creating an impressionist scene.
We could hear the honking of Canada geese over the roar of an invisible Nugget Falls and the scolds of a hidden Stellar’s jay. Behind us, the sun burned a silver disk in the marine layer.
Aki led me onto a small trail that paralleled the lakeshore. I didn’t try to hurry the dog, letting her linger as long as she pleased over each piece of pee mail. I was happy for the delay. It might give the fog time to part.
The little poodle-mix almost dragged me through the woods and onto the road through the campground. When thickening clouds blocked out the sun, I stopped looking through openings in the forest for views of the glacier.
Aki spirits picked up each time we ran into another dog. She was trotting a few meters in front of me when we returned to the lake, which now reflected a blue strip of glacial ice. Soon we could see the mountains behind the glacier. Then the fog closed in again, returning us to a soft, white world.