Winter always means wind, here. At home I loved the wind, but here, not so much. It's cold and cutting and since we live on the edge of town, we always wind up with other people's garbage clinging to the fence and the sunflowers----plastic shopping bags rattling in the trees.
I've made a windbreak of hay bales for the buns and they come out when the sun is just right and huddle in a roiling ball of white fur in the shelter of it, blinking and furling their ears.
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