Splutch.

I haven't seen the horses this week, not to look at anyway. With Anna away I've been feeding them before dawn and after dark, rushing off in the interim to pose as an office worker. I know they're alive and hungry and I knew, from the sucking at my boots, that the melting of the little snow we had and the constant rain since had created a whole mess of mud.

I didn't see it until this morning. Each of those puddles represents a long squelch of boot or hoof.

This is my boot, those are not the sparkles of eyes that shone like diamonds.

It's drizzling now and hardly light. If conditions permit I'll try for a panoramic view later. In the meantime I cling to the cliche "you don't have to shovel it".