I call this the horse farm on outer Stroudwater Street heading into the city. I have no real idea what a horse farm is or if there is any such thing in Maine. I know one thing for a fact though. There are horses housed in that barn. I've seen them all year long, as I drive by on this stretch of road. In the winter, it's a lot of fun traveling by and seeing them dancing, prancing and galloping across a field of white, and if it happens to snowing... well, my! If you told me Robert Frost wrote "The Runaway", while parked here for a spell, I'd believe you. Now, I'm not a big horse guy, but it always brings a grin of satisfaction in winter, when I see them playing in this field. As we travel down this road called life, aren't some of the simplest things the most pleasure-packed? They are for me. 'Sakes, it's only weather.'