White Horse

On the night of the new moon immediately before the Summer equinox (or, to be honest, whenever he feels like it) the White Horse lifts his chalky bones from the downs and sets off to walk, trot and gallop around what he is careful to think of as his “neigh”bourhood. He notes the changes that have occurred since his last inspection - the new petrol station on the bypass, the housing estate going up in what was once a meadow. But he makes no judgements. It is all his and he loves it all.