The numbering at Bethlehem by Breughel the Elder

It is deep midwinter in a Flemish village and the whole place has turned out to be counted. A crowd presses round the inn window on the left where the clerks are working, carts are drawn up in the snow, and a man leads a donkey through the middle of it with a woman riding.

Nobody else is paying it the slightest attention! Children are sliding about on the frozen river, chickens peck round the cartwheels, and the sun is already going down behind the bare trees.