The last morning

We waited the all afternoon and the all evening. The mares feast on rich grass in front of the Saint Frészal small chapel in La Canourgue, a magic water takes its source here. I have a heavy heart and bananas to share, I call the mares which arrive with their greedy gallop.

The truck arrives at midnight. Adrien is here with his father, they are coming back from Spain, where they delivered two horses. I sink in the night and go fetch the mares which climb into the truck without a second thought. Everyone belts up. I speak about the journey, Adrien about his experiences with horses: instructor, groom in the equestrian academy of Versailles and now boss of his own transport company.

It took six hours. It passes quickly, even with no sleep. A cold early morning of September welcomes us first. I wait for my sister and mother that will arrive later.

The journey is over. And I am too tired to notice.