When I went to bed, the lawn was green and the trees were brown. When I woke up, the world had gone brilliant white:
But if you asked the chickens, they wouldn't agree. Snow clings to chicken wire, turning their world dark. This is what they saw when they looked into their yard:
I left the light on all day for the chickens. For the horses, snow on top of dirt that hasn't had a chance to freeze, equals mud. Every step will churn it up more.
I might be the only one who thought the first snow was pretty.