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Winter Carnival Story Contest Write about the state or region where you live, the story can be fiction or nonfiction, your choice. One or more winning articles each month will get 3000 Wbucks and the writer will also get a pink saddle. All articles will be published in the Magazine. Articles must be at least 500 words long. TITLE By USERNAME

Winter Carnival Story Contest Write about the state or region where you live, the story can be fiction or nonfiction, your choice. One or more winning articles each month will get 3000 Wbucks and the writer will also get a pink saddle. All articles will be published in the Magazine. Articles must be at least 500 words long. TITLE By USERNAME	Jane Crandal & JB
2013-12-01 02:05:59
Winter By: Seemsom14 Winter is here! It reminds me of last winter, like, December 2012. It was the best winter ever and I totally miss it. Cause, last winter, I went to Vancouver with my family for one week and stayed in Sandman hotel in Guildford, which is an area in Surrey. It was the best winter EVER. Because we went to places everyday and we met people and I finally got to meet a friend who I wanted to meet. Winter in Vancouver is a great view! You should take a vacation there.	Seemsom14 & Snow White
2013-12-02 04:20:12
Storm By; sockylola1 Last Christmas, there was a huge rainstorm in California. The weather reports said it was going to be slightly cloudy, but it was raining and hailing harder than I'd ever seen it do before. My sisters and I went outside and splashed each other, trying to catch raindrops or hail on our tongues. Our dog didn't approve of the rain and barked at us as we played. We all sat down with some home made Cinnamon Rolls and started opening presents with a fire in the fireplace. There was a constant tapping of the rain and hail and we were wrapped up in blankets. It was nice to have a cold Christmas for once. After we opened presents, we went outside again and rode around in our bikes, riding into the big puddles and laughing as we got soaking wet. My big brother kept dumping buckets of water on us and we laughed and started chasing each other around the yard. When we came back inside, we were freezing and completely soaked. Our mom sent us upstairs to get warm and change clothes, and when we came back down she had hot chocolate and marshmallows out for us. After us girls finished drinking, we thanked mom and got some dolls that we hadn't played with in awhile and pretended that they were lost in a blizzard. Meanwhile, it was still raining and hailing harder than ever. When it started to get dark we turned on a Christmas movie. Everyone got onto the couch and got close, putting blankets on over ourselves so you could only see our faces. When the movie finished, we all went to bed. But me and my sister woke up to lightning flashing through our window. We woke up the rest of our family and looked out the living room window for a better view, squinting every time the lightning flashed purple, blue, or white. We got our sleeping bags and curled up for the night below the window. My sisters and I stayed up late talking for awhile before finally falling asleep. It was the best Christmas EVER.	sockylola1 & Spirit
2013-12-04 01:43:33
Missouri by KaylaHorseLoveer Missouri is great all times of the year! Home of Mark Twain who writes great stories, Home of the Pony Express that delivered mail fast, Home of the Gateway Arch standing proud, Home of the Lake of The Ozarks with glittering lakes, Home of me. Missouri is beautiful in winter with snow covered hills and trees, pretty in fall too with multicolored leaves, majestic in spring when new animals are born and grass is bright green, great in summer too with hot days great for riding. I am proud to live in Missouri.	KaylaHorseLover & Nevada
2013-12-04 02:06:54
Winter In Maine -By Horsesforever12 The chilly Autumn leaves drift down from the towering oak trees and descend to the ground. The air cools and the trees are bare. Winter is coming in Maine. The salty sea shores rage onward, tirelessly curling and rippling. The blueberry barrens turn a deep red and the green grass fades. The dauntless pine trees stand tall and firm, their spiky heads facing the cold, unmerciful wind. Then, one small white snowflake drifts down from the white sky and lands on a dead, brown leaf. Then another one joins him. Soon the grass is covered in a light sheet of snow and the sea shores are dusted and the red blueberry barrens become white. Hours later the snow is two inches deep and has hidden the grass and blueberry barrens from view. The air is frigid cold and stings your face when you go outside. It makes your cheeks and nose pink. The horses are dusted with snow and their nostrils breath warm air that puffs up into the sky. Weeks later and the ponds and rivers and streams are blanketed in a sheen layer of ice and the salty seas are cold and forever bearing. Snow-mans wave hello in people's front yards and little snow forts stand proudly on the snow-bearing lawns. Then Christmas wreaths hang in the doorways and Christmas lights are stringed atop roofs on houses. The sparkling, glittering Christmas trees can be seen through windows. Smoke billows out of chimneys. Then the months pass on and the snow melts and the ponds, rivers, and streams thaw. The salty seas still rage on, their rippling waves now teaming with returning fish. The faded, wet grass lifts its head and straightens up in the warming sunshine. The red blueberry barrens turn a green color and new blueberry's bud on the leaves. The tall pine trees still stand proud and strong, their branches weaving and waving gently in the breeze. After a harsh winter, spring buds. And that is winter in Maine. ~Horsesforever12 :)	Horsesforever12 & Jedi
2013-12-07 02:10:08
Angel ameliabrenes5 I run outside in the freezing cold snow. The snowflakes swarm around me, but I don't care. I run to the barn, pulling my jacket closer around my body for warmth. Mary was having her foal! On Christmas Eve too! I rush into the mare and foal stall, nearly out of breath. Mom was already there, tanning by in case Mary needed help delivering. I stand next to her, catching my breath. Me and my mom stayed quiet as Mary paced around the stall. Then something happened, she layed down. We watched her for the next hour, after that she was standing again, but not alone. A small white filly was nursing. I breathed a sigh of relief that the foaling was fine. Now for a name for the foal. Maybe something about Christmas? Snow? No. Snowflake? No. Something else...THen it hit me. Angel. Come to think of it, she looked like a angel. Her clear blue eyes, her fluffy white coat, almost looked like wings. Angel I decided leaning back and watching her nurse. Angel was the filly's name.	ameliabrenes5 & Rascal
2013-12-10 02:17:01
My home in Colorado is the prettiest in the winter. The beautiful Rocky Mountains are crested with snow, and the sky is a beautiful light blue. The ground is perfectly white, and the snow sparkles in the sun like a thousand diamonds. My favorite part of winter, however, is when I get to see the wild horses, with their backs dusted with soft, light snow, like they just rolled in sugar. They gallop and play in the cold, snowy fields, or gather together to keep warm. The little foals lay near their mothers, almost hidden in the thick, white snow. All of the wild foals were grulla and dun, to blend in with their surroundings, each with a built-in camouflage system. However, one little filly stood out. She glistened with a dark golden color, her fuzzy coat shining with a metallic quality. I fell in love instantly. Her warm, brown eyes were soft, and her demeanor was gentle. I made it my duty to come out and watch her herd from afar with my new binoculars. I watched her play in the snow with her friends, their tiny hooves kicking up the fluffy snow. I saw her eat her first bite of grass, pawing to reach the delicious treat from beneath the snow. I watched her grow up in only one winter. I watched her become a beautiful mare. I named her Golden Rose Golden rose grew in to a beautiful yearling. Her love of freedom was unwavering; I could see it in her eyes. As summer approached, she shed her fuzzy foal coat, and took on a glimmering vibrant gold, tinted with pink from the red dirt in the water hole she played in. Gold Rose became an even more fitting name. It became my passion to watch Gold Rose as she grew up, to peek in to a complex social pyramid of horses very few could understand. Her stunning freedom and wildness came to a halt, however, when the BLM arranged a trap at the bottom of their hill. They would need to reach the pools of melted snow, and when they did, the BLM would trap the horses, and adopt them off to new owners who would train the horses, and give them proper care and attention. I knew Gold Rose would go to the perfect home, but I feared that she would loose her freedom. It had meant so much to her. As I lay on the top of my hill, binoculars in hand, I saw a horrifying sight. Golden Rose and her herd were galloping down the hill, their long, matted manes streaming out behind them. Terrified screams pierced the crisp winter air. Helicopter blades cut the muffled silence of the mountain. I gasped in horror. Golden Rose was racing straight towards the trap. I couldn’t watch. I stood up and started running. I ran until my steps were lazy and slurred, and my breath came out in gasps. I ran until I reached the trap, clipboards already attached to the dark green fences. Stallions fought, and foals screamed for their mothers. I watched as Golden rose was separated from the rest of the horses, her golden body extracted from the soup of horses, their colors blending together to the point where they were indistinguishable from each other. A man’s voice sailed over the terrified horses. “Let the palomino go. She might pass that pretty coloring on to her babies.” I gulped air. I had been holding my breath. Gold Rose whinnied for her mother and father, for the friends she had lost, and I could hear the pain ,and the sorrow., and the hurt, but I prayed that when the freedom was offered to her, and escape from the maze of fences, she would accept it, and race back to her true home.	Buttonluv & Strata
2013-12-23 02:31:30
above entries will be in the January Magazine, below will be February entries	Jane Crandal & JB
2014-01-09 04:08:05
My house By:20chogan My house is small, But the view is big. I love to look out my window in the winter, I see snow covered trees and my snow covered yard, Across the street I see a frozen lake. I live somewhere cold, but I don't mind, because by view is beautiful, especially in the winter.	20Chogan & Diamond
2014-01-10 04:03:52
20 chogan that is a great poem, look for it in our Jan. issue.	Jane Crandal & JB
2014-01-11 00:29:51