The old oak tree was swaying in the afternoon breeze. And the sky was calm. The larger of the two horses urinated for nearly thirty seconds in a particularly dry section of dirt. The powdery surface quickly gave way to the force of the urine stream and formed a shallow crater of mud that held the liquid - and appeared as a partially buried bowl of hot cider. I thought to myself "well..might be", as I had given the horse an apple not more than an hour ago. A crow laughed from the tallest branch of the old oak tree. I paid my electric bill and watched, thru the thinnest sliver, I watched, with one palm resting on a letter opener.

Who's up for an NG Virginia Meet?