‘A tryst in the stables. Horses. Leather warmed at a canter, verdant green in the air. You work up a sweat as you press the stallion harder, breathing in unison. Then the reward of a sun-ripened peach, hoofs crunching the sea of wild lily-of-the-valley beneath the tree. Never far from an illicit tryst in the stables on a bed of hay. Courage is not being unafraid of being thrown. It’s getting straight back in the saddle when you are.’ – Sarah Baker
