An Island of Wild Horses

“I still wake in the night, or in the hours just at dawn, and I remember what it was like, what it was like to sit on a dune and look out over the sea, what it was like to have horses nuzzle me from each side, and from the rear—no escape. What it was like to feel the wind and to follow a horse track somewhere, over there, somewhere where sand and seal and horse and sea and sky meet.”

Read Karen’s article about Sable Island on the Sable Island Institute website.

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