And the white stuff wasn't pretty and fluffy, either. It was cold, damp, grey and blustery out there. The snow was just wet enough to sort of stick to everything. Raw gusts slapped at us, periodically sending globs of semi-frozen slush smacking down - invariably catching the gap at the back of my collar and running ice water down my neck.
The ponies looked resigned, tucked out of the wind with their coats all fluffed out. They followed us up to the bale to see what we were up to, but didn't linger.
It was chilly up there, and the rattling noise of slush-balls letting go to fall on dead leaves and dry underbrush had them pricking their ears and swiveling their heads around to see what was sneaking up on them.
Moisture = good, but I sure wish it would have come earlier in the month as a nice, warm rain!