It was
bound to come, the first heavy frost, and come it did. When I looked out the window, the scene was
white and frosty, but full of its own particular beauty.
It didn’t slow down the goats any,
either. They still rushed out to the
orchard when I opened the gate. They
were noticeably disappointed, though.
The apples didn’t seem quite as tasty as the days before. Usually, nothing can call them away from
those lovely drops, but this time, when they noticed me watching them, camera
in hand, they considered there must be better prospects elsewhere.
