Cold breeze flows through the river bank as branches sway against the whistling wind. The Florida Cur wags his tail curiously, not knowing how deep the river might be, nevertheless he adventures further down below the tiny hill.

The damp grass covers the dark brown ground while trees bend in the river’s direction.

Plenty  of unforgiving stones lead partly down through the river, giving us a way to pass.

Pure white snow had fallen from the following night which covers the mountains. My feet go frosty cold as I admire the beautiful view.

 I think I might take a picture.

RYIA – YEAR 7