The donkeys and sheep make well-worn trails through the pastures.
In the winter their hooves pack the snow into dense trails of ice.
During the spring they turn to mud.
The summer brings flattened grass among the tall wildflowers.
And in autumn, like this morning, their paths are visible through the frost.
maria, you have a real way with words, and this piece in particular reads like poetry. just beautiful!
Thank you Renate.