Neith Boyce

“ The chorus of birds in the orange orchards, in the magnolia trees, in the blanches of the swaying eucalypti, became louder and more joyous; the horses lifted their heads and moved restlessly; the air grew softer, more divinely clear. ”

“ The cold light gleamed on the trappings of many horses, reflected here from the gold mountingts of head-stall and reins, there from the silver lining of a red saddle whose snowy anquera descended half way to the ground. ”