We wait...
In the dead of winter, we are frozen in place.
Temperatures dip, and Arctic winds blow.
Snow falls sporadically, clinging to every tree branch and blade of grass.
We hibernate and pray for an early spring.
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| The woods beckon, a magical forest draped in winter white. |
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| Behind a stone wall, dormant farmland stretches to the sea. |
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| Freed from the barn, horses clad in blankets brave the cold. |
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| The snowy path to the barn is all uphill. |
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| Under the snow by the stone wall, daffodils bide their time. |
