Leon MITOUARD. My Bond with Horses

Horses are friendly animals—peaceful, without malice, sometimes displaying a childlike joy when they play in the steppes. There is nothing more touching than watching horses playfully bicker. Sometimes, I leave the farm and go for a ride. I climb up onto the steppe and come across a herd. I sit on a lone rock that breaks through the vast whiteness. I watch them with tenderness; they seem infinitely calm. They gaze at the horizon, their eyes meet mine and linger. A mare approaches and studies me intently with her large brown eyes.

At 10 a.m., when I come to untie one of them and lead him to drink, we are so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my hand. His gaze seems to pierce my soul, carrying an understanding that goes beyond words. I place my hand on his neck; he remains still, serene.

In the evening, they wait for their food, watching my every movement from the corner of their eyes. Their spotted coats contrast with the snow, like charcoal scattered across a white canvas.

The bond that forms with them is pure, free of self-interest, far from the social games of the human world. True kindness can only express itself with complete freedom toward those who hold no power—toward these beings, so often at the mercy of man: the animals.

Over time, our world has drifted away from theirs. This separation between humans and animals is a silent battle—a struggle to reclaim a harmony that has long been lost.

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