They are picked by the parrot and the cockatoo. You can tell by looking at them what type of bird has pulled them from the tree.

A red tailed, black cockatoo eats them one way. A white cheeked, black cockatoo eats them another way. They also fly differently. One is straight and glides, one flies like a wave.

‘You’re kidding me,’ says this one, remembering. ‘That’s what she said last time. Actual birds. That’s what she meant.’

The other one rolls his eyes. ‘Just like actual horses, you twit.’ He sticks out his tongue for good measure.

We wonder if they will decide to go and see the actual horses. They are ready to be seen as well, they say.

‘Can I stroke him,’ says the little girl to her mother. ‘Will he bite?’

‘No, darling, he is very friendly, he will not bite. See how he is now?’

They see this now.

I can’t write the name of the place because I could not see it clearly, but I’ve been there. The two boys are in the far paddock, a bay, and a chestnut. The chestnut stood once under a tree, his feet nearly in his own poo, unfortunately. He will come out from under the tree today, his head held high, and he will snort. If you look very carefully, you might even see him smile.

Behind him walks the older bay. Once he was a strawberry roan. He is very, very gentle and will see if maybe you have something for him. Be careful with his back, though. He is not to be ridden, and the owners of these two love them very, very much.

Before you get to them, you will see the “Magnificent white horse” and the dun, and maybe the young bay filly as well. Opposite the boys is the tiny black mare, and she is never forgotten by the people who visit her, even if it is not always her owners. At the very rear, you may be lucky enough to see the palomino, if she isn’t rolling around on her back in the sand.

I may be wrong about the palomino, because I did not properly meet her when I was there last. Maybe today she is standing at the fence and waiting for someone to come and see her. Maybe today she can go for a ride.