As we walk across the road to investigate an estate sale a horse with saddle askew clops (love the sound his hooves make), his path irratic, towards us and we are just able to leap aside as he careens by us. He impulsively zags left down an alley. A man rushes up, hand keeping his hat on his head, "That's okay. He's going in the general direction of home." I wasn't afraid for thecars or people just that this magnificent beast might come to harm in his freedom.
As we drive down a hill from the mail run the town and surrounding countryside are revealed and I can see from horizon to horizon. In three places white smoke puffs vertically. No wind today.
A group of horses stand as statues in a snowless beaten down pasture. All but one are on four legs and the hind leg of that one is crooked up.
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