As if I hadn't already taken enough photos at Saddlewood of various appaloosas, when my weary sister and I pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road we saw what looked like a herd of wild horses running up the side of a rocky hill. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't on the Montana plains. They were of course the camp's mounts put out to pasture, well not like any pasture I've ever seen. It never ceases to amaze me that no matter how tired I am, I'm never tired of photographing horses. This site, this cornucopia of equines, was like a gift to me. The low evening light behind them; large, small, black, white, and every colour in between, burr filled manes and all. How I love horses!
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