The day is overcast, snowy, and cold. It’s a dreary day, no other way to describe it. The clouds are gray and hug the surrounding mountains in a shroud of somberness.
The snow wafts down slow, softly and quietly. I even stick my tongue out to catch a flake or two like I did when I was a kid.
These are some of my thoughts, but I wonder what the horses are musing about.
All the horses are standing around turned this way and that way. Their heads are drooping. What are they thinking? Are they wondering when warmer days are coming? Or maybe the next flake of hay?