A Picture Story

I went out in the cold bright light of a snowy blowy day to take photos like this--placid sheep, snow clad reeds. The wind was blowing so hard that I had to hunker down and make myself as small as possible to get this shot. All this is within sight of my house, so I was not an intrepid explorer or sturdy hill walker.
And as I walked, I kept an eye on the sky. This little patch of maybe blue-maybe grey is a mighty struggle. The light made the peat and moss and reeds look pretty much the way I get to see them. But in a moment it was apparent that the blue team on the sky front had lost--at least temporarily.
I hastily took this last shot and stuck my camera in my pocket and began running back home. The wind was driving the snow into everything and no matter how many layers, the wind found some vulnerable spots. I heard a sheep complain. I never heard a sheep swear before, but there is a time for everything.