Counting Sheep

In this cozy expanse of time between Thanksgiving and novel-finishing, the only thing one can do is prance outside with the sheep. 

This particular flock makes its way around the Roman ruins of an aqueduct right around teatime every day. It's become a habit to go visit them and admire their wooly coats from afar. Today, I managed to scare one or two off with my twirls, but I don't think they minded too much.