Horses. Breathing in their scent. Feeling the thickness of their manes. Offering them treats and being lipped by their almost prehensile upper lip asking and looking for more. Grooming them. Shedding away the loose hair and expecting more to be on me than on them after I am done. Petting the space between their eyes and knowing they cannot see it..only feel it. Their eyes work on the sides, not in front. They are prey animals and need side vision more than they need front vision. Knowing they trust me to lay my hands where they cannot see. Listening ...as they eat the grain I drop into their feeder. Finding solace in the simple quiet contented noises of them enjoying what I provide for them. Loving how they drink...quietly dipping their lips in the water and watching their throat latch swallow as they drink...then as they rise their head out of the bucket, leftover water drains from them...and their eyes get heavy with satiation....
Horses...
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Pole bachit, a lis chuye.
The field sees, the forest hears
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