“As I step outside I’m surprised by the dense morning haze. It reminds me of the thick, wet fog along the California coast in my boyhood town of Santa Cruz. Sounds are muffled. Mist cloaks the trees around the ranch house until they are shrouded like ghostly sentinels. I hike far out into the pasture and position my cameras on a small berm where the herd will pass by. The fog is nearly impenetrable. I hear men yelling Read More …