It’s a misty three degrees Celsius.
It’s beautiful. Ethereal.
A still-frozen pond sets a tail-end-of-winter scene.

Lions laze together, her head over his back. He yawns. She goes to sleep.
Olive baboons huddle in a corner, but observe curiously. Although they don’t miss much, they are not their usually playful selves.
A tiger paces the boundary of her enclosure, her hugs paws padding heavily.
Raccoons doze lazily in their log while the cougar hides in the shelter of rocks.
The lynx is nowhere to be seen.

A pair of bald eagles are nesting: she lines the nest with leaf litter; he watches carefully, making sure no threat interrupts her work.

The she-moose is friendly and inquisitive, but wanders away to investigate the contents of the feed trough.

Grizzly bears, just out of hibernation, relax on large rocks.
An arctic wolf wanders from the pack, sniffing the air and eyeing the newcomers cautiously.

Mist turns to soft rain as the polar bear tries to get in the door that keeps her from her sleeping cub.

Dense mist falls like a late-afternoon blanket as the animal world drifts into its nightly slumber.

Silver mist enfolds naked trees, snow still blanketing the ground at their feet.
Dense, cold air heavy air.