A Horse called Man

Tucked away in the soft green edges of Trim, I wandered past a small horse sanctuary. The evening was still, with only the low rustle of the trees and the distant sound of hooves. A single horse grazed lazily across the field, seemingly indifferent to my presence until he wasn’t… He approached me slowly, not in haste or fear, but with the calm curiosity only animal wanting to know if I had a carrot or two. As he neared, I raised my lens, quietly, not wanting to interrupt the moment. He stopped just a few feet away and met my eyes—then the click of the shutter. One frame. One soulful eye.

As I continued exploring, the weather began to shift. Clouds rolled in, thick and deliberate, casting shadows over the fields and the ancient ruins that stood watch over the landscape.

The contrast was striking, dark silhouettes of broken stone against a sky quickly turning charcoal. There was a stillness to it all. Shapes formed in the contrast between light and dark, arches, towers, jagged edges softened by time. I stood there, letting the camera expose for the bright sky and felt more intrigued by the feeling than the frame when processed would be quite unusual. Look for the watchers on the wall… winter is coming.