Yesterday afternoon did not feel like a November day. It was shirt-sleeve warm just before sunset, and so calm that not a twig was stirring.
But the three horses in the pasture--LB, Corky, and Tiffany--were not out grazing on grass that's started growing again. They were up as close to the house as they could get, clustered near the gate to the barn. They made it pretty clear that they wanted someone to let them come inside.
I'm glad I gave in, because a major "wind-icane" blasted in during the night, slamming the side of the house and threatening to lift the roof right off. That first gust must have been at 60 mph, and the big blow has been hard and steady ever since. Anything not nailed down has been blown east to the next county.
Isn't it amazing what animals know before we do?