Snow. All day yesterday. The tall trees left in the backyard along the fence (the ones still standing after a tornado hit a couple of years ago) looked black from my back kitchen windows. On the other side of the fence, the empty, white, snow-covered pasture stretched back to snowy farm buildings. Everything black and white with a leaden sky. As I came into the kitchen to make tea, I happened to glance out the windows just as five horses–black, white, brown–galloped along the fence in a perfect line, one behind the other, head to tail. They were moving in perfect rhythm and complete abandonment through the cold air and thick, falling snow. I thought how beautiful those cherished horses were in motion: strong and free and joyous.