Hiding from the horse

I'm sure I've mentioned the horses in the back field that range down from Bunker Hill many times over the past year. When I'm grasping for something poetic to colour a post the horses never let me down. Even though they aren't wild hoses they still have something of the wild spirit about them. They are a solid and reassuring presence most days, going about their business, snorting and breathing, running and browsing. They are just wonderful creatures to share the afternoon with. They take very little notice of me, maybe I'm reading or watching the bees or the birds. They take no notice of anybody in our back gardens. They only have time for each other and what tasties they can find growing near the fence.

Well at least they did until sister of mine decided, whilst eating an apple back there, that she might share one with one of the horses. Sure the horse loved that. Do horses count? I doubt they bother with the number one. One is just not enough to bother counting.

Face of the week

So now the horse knows that in a certain back garden apples appear as if by magic. Here you can see he is looking for sister of mine in the certain knowledge that, if he could count, one apple would surely be not enough. So now we are hiding from the horse. We are hiding from a horse in our own back garden. Visions of the horse deciding to cross the fence crash disastrously to mind. We've had fence jumpers before. We remember the bunny that jumped the fence and didn't leave for several fun flowerchomping days. And all the Kamikaze sheep who stumble over of course. But a horse? If he comes over we may have a problem. We have visions of leading him through the house, maybe getting stuck in a doorway, equine devastation left behind in his wake and red faces all round. So yes, we are hiding, in our own back garden. Has he gone yet?