This weekend I saw a sure sign of impending cold and snow.
It's not the sub- zero temperatures that I've been waking up to most mornings. Nor the fact that I've consequentially had to turn on the furnace in the house.
|The forecast for when I get up tomorrow morning.|
It's not that I've already had to wear thermal underwear, a winter coat, and a toque.
|Farrier morning a couple of weeks ago.|
It's not that I've seen the flocks of Canada Geese making their way to their winter homes in the south of the continent, or that the hares that breed like, well, rabbits, and are found everywhere in the city, have started to change from brown to white coats.
It's not the fact that every horse I've seen seems to have a sprouted a ominously wooly coat - even the tb's that usually stay pretty sleek.
The sure sign of winter that was sighted this weekend -
my horses white tails have been cleaned and put up, not to be seen again until the spring.
|and wrapped (in suitably themed duct tape).|