In the predawn darkness, the earth is cool and still. The frogs, nighttime animals and even the wind are finally at rest. With sights and sounds dampened by the night, the smells of grass, dew and horses permeate the air. My mind and heart slow. I feel the effortless space between breaths.
The silence is softly stirred by a movement in the grass, followed by a stillness, like the pause between musical notes. A few moments pass before a distant robin calls to its mate who answers from the branches above. A gentle breeze rustles the trees, joined by other calls, and in the still dark night, almost feeling before hearing, are low, soft nickers.
As the blue of the sky emerges, an unnameable silhouette appears, eventually taking form as a mare. She lazily scratches her nose on her leg before resuming her standing sleep. A second mare emerges from the tall grass, cocking back onto her haunches to stretch her front legs, then each hind leg stretched backward in turn. Lowering her head, she shakes the sleep from her full body, the dew and dust outlining her form. The growing orange in the east illuminates three more mares, and as the sun breaks through the tree line, on cue, five foals awkwardly rise, short tails flapping, a hind leg scratching a molting face, a bit of jostling play. Again silence, as they stand sideways to the warming sun before taking their breakfast.
Reaching into my camera bag, I remember why I‘ve come. Although it now feels secondary.
