While one weather system left us last night, another front moved in this morning and gave me and Kona another great sky show.
The trails were quiet. The air temperature hovered in the upper 30's, and probably scared some of our fellow thin-skinned hikers inside for the morning. The forest peaks were dusted in snow and I relaxed into a comfortable jog.
Kona wasn't as enthusiastic as she was yesterday on her long line, but she settled into her restricted roaming range. She was not about to stop for a photo, so now the world gets to see her rump shot:
All was well until we reached our high bench. Kona stuck her nose into the breeze, then turned on her heels to high tail it in the other direction. She wasn't in a panicked flight. Imagine a coyote slinking away after spotting a human. That's what she looked like.
She stayed nervous as we descended the trail. I heard a dumpster lid slam in the neighborhood below us, and wondered if Kona heard something that scared her. But she kept sticking her nose in the air as she slinked down the trail. I usually know, or at least have a good idea, about what scares Kona. This time, I didn't have a clue. I desperately wanted to get inside her nose to see what smell made her so worried.
When we made it to her favorite trail, she relaxed quite a bit, but still made several stops to sniff the air.
I was glad Kona's favorite trail was at the end of our run. Kona got to finish her morning with high frolics, and I got to soak up another inspiring sky. I never know what a morning with Kona will hold, but there's usually something good to be found. (Oh, Kona just asked me to add "and smelled" to the end of that sentence.) And there you have it.