These chickens were huddled in their house at first, then one by one they ventured out into the snow-covered yard and started pecking at the ground, stretching, fluffing out their feathers. I was drawing with gloves on, shivering, going as fast as I could.
Near the chickens were a few enormous wooly sheep in their luxurious winter coats, browsing around in a small pasture with the milk cow and a visiting black cow. Drawing fast, but the sheep were hardly moving. Snow still coming down. M and I walked nearly four miles on the now frozen mud trails and through the garden and farm fields.
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