I miss watching those Shetland ponies hooves dance in excitement atop the thick bed of grass that lay beneath their weight. Their large discoloured teeth would gnaw hungrily on handfuls of hay extended from my palm would make me chuckle- even the ponies in England lack dental hygiene.
Sometimes I would find myself distracted from the farm yard’s ponies. I’d stop to feel the rustle through my hair while watching the long blades of grass wave in unison to the beat of the mid-summers wind.
Shivering in the wind was worth it, because the silhouette of rolling hills eclipsed by the setting sun in England’s country side is such a sight.