Anna Gillespie



Have I mentioned the horses eating the trees? Twenty feet outside my office window, the horses are consuming dead poplar trunks like they’re cinnamon sticks. Hey, it’s the end of winter. They’re bored out of their minds. I get it. But it’s quite the sight to see an eight inch thick tree whittled down to two inches and leaning against its fellows – like some five foot beaver came along and decided, 80% of the way through it’s meal, that it had had enough. Yeesh.

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