The filly looks familiar, but the two older horses are new to me. They have probably come over the mountain to avoid elk hunters in the high country.
The storm on the foothills was moving down, closer. I started moving back toward my Jeep, and turned back around to wave them a friendly farewell. Already, the snow had moved in, and they horses were running into it. Although they soon became engulfed by the falling snow, none was falling on me, just yards away.