The story of the white horses
Nov 08, 2021
I’ve always loved horses since childhood. I had a huge collection of toy horses, and each one even had a name.
From age four to eleven, my daily routine looked like this: combing tails and manes, refilling feeders, and arranging everyone in growth order around the bed. I have always tried to convince my loved ones and myself that they come to life when no one is watching. I talked to them, watched Spirit on repeat, and dreamt of a huge house with a separate paddock for my beloved pets.
One day when I was getting to kindergarten with my grandmother, a herd of white wild horses raced right in front of the bus. This remembrance comes at the most challenging moments of life. Each horse in this memory represents freedom, strength, and inspiration to me. The view impressed me and left me with memories that will never go away. I watched the horses as if mesmerized. I could not take my eyes off them.
I was never sent to an equestrian school, no matter how many times I asked. I have not yet built my own house with a paddock either. But I would like to go back there, to these horses, saddle one, and rush off into the distance.