There are four pictures in that article.

What are you on about? What sort of impression? Isn't a picture an image?

Even knowing what I’m supposed to be looking for, I’m afraid I still don’t see it. I don’t see any whisky bottles, either!

[Me]
Please write a historical story. Early on a summer morning. A lady is stood on a hilltop. looking down to a valley, where there is a river. In a meadow on the far side of the river stands a white horse. The lady's view of the legs of the horse is obscured by the early morning mist above the river.
[Copilot]
Certainly! Here’s a historical story set in the scene you described:

The Lady of the Valley

Early on a summer morning, the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold. Lady Eleanor stood on the hilltop, her silhouette framed against the rising sun. She gazed down into the valley below, where the River Avon meandered gracefully through the lush landscape.

The valley was a place of serene beauty, with wildflowers carpeting the meadows and ancient oaks standing sentinel along the riverbanks. On the far side of the river, in a meadow bathed in the soft glow of morning light, stood a majestic white horse. Its legs were hidden by the early morning mist that hovered above the river, giving it an ethereal appearance.

Lady Eleanor’s heart swelled with a mix of nostalgia and longing. This valley had been her sanctuary since childhood, a place where she could escape the burdens of her noble duties. The white horse, named Arion, had been a gift from her late father, a symbol of freedom and grace.

As she stood there, memories of her father flooded her mind. He had been a wise and kind man, beloved by all who knew him. His sudden passing had left a void in her life, one that she sought to fill by visiting this cherished spot. The sight of Arion brought her comfort, a reminder of the bond she had shared with her father.

The mist began to lift, revealing more of the meadow and the horse. Arion lifted his head, sensing her presence even from across the river. With a gentle whinny, he trotted closer to the water’s edge, his mane flowing like a silken banner in the breeze.

Lady Eleanor smiled, a tear slipping down her cheek. She knew that life would continue to present its challenges, but in this moment, she felt a profound sense of peace. The valley, the river, and the white horse were her anchors, grounding her in a world that often seemed uncertain.

With a deep breath, she turned to descend the hill, ready to face the day ahead. The memory of this tranquil morning would stay with her, a beacon of hope and resilience in the days to come.