“You have to pick the places you don’t walk away from.”
This young filly spent a considerable amount of time napping, scratching, and daydreaming among the safety of a twisty oak branch. It reminds me of a thousand images I’ve seen of a horse hanging their head over a stall door or fence. It’s as if captive horses image an ancestral itineracy to pass the time. Interestingly, and in an opposite way, this horse, free to roam as she pleases, seems content to linger in the illusion of confinement in the embrace of something solid.