Tuesday, July 26, 2016


"Again the early-morning sun was generous with its warmth.  
All the sounds dear to a horseman were around me - 
the snort of the horses as they cleared their throats, 
the gentle swish of their tails, 
the tinkle of irons as we flung the saddles over their backs - 
little sounds of no importance, 
but they stay in the unconscious library of memory."

Wynford Vaughan-Thomas

No comments:

Post a Comment