I lay in the dark of the early morning hours, trying to go back to sleep. Outside the air hummed as the wind strummed the tops of the trees, punctuated every so often with a huge gust, that once upon a time, likely would have found its way into the cavernous, uninsulated walls of the old house, but now could only buffet them in frustration. I imagined that when we got up in a few hours, there would be a new drifts piled up against the buildings, and the trees would be invisible behind the curtain of snow that surely was blowing across the fields. Finally I fell asleep again.
When we awoke later, the sun was shining, and the wind still howled, but hadn't brought any new snow. Strangely though, when I went out to the barn, it felt much warmer than when I'd put Ambra and Sierra in their stalls the previous evening. The gusts of wind were colder and so I decided to keep them in their stalls for the day. Easier to keep the weight on them when they're not fighting to stay warm. Ambra just stands there patiently in the stall, on swollen, puffy legs. She needs to walk and no amount of bedding keeps the swelling down. Sierra on the other hand, would pace in her stall if it was big enough to pace in. She gets quite anxious being locked up like this. A flake of hay settles her nerves.
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