Neve

The symbiotic relationship between a young girl and her ponies.

“In riding a horse, we borrow freedom.”—Helen Thomson

né | ve noun, feminine (Italian)

From Latin nix, nivis. Atmospheric precipitation consisting of delicate ice crystals formed by the condensation and freezing of water vapour.

Its beauty is both simple and extraordinary. Within its hexagonal crystals, each one unique, lies a quiet perfection.

Once upon a time, in a world seemingly untouched by time, there lived a little girl we called Neve. She had golden-brown hair, slender fingers and a piercing gaze.

While other girls her age dreamed of becoming princesses, wearing beautiful dresses or being rescued by handsome princes on white horses, Neve inhabited a world where such dreams had little meaning. She had no need to imagine a prince arriving on horseback. The horses were already there, and the freedom they offered was entirely her own.

Her days unfolded far from the distractions of modern life, in a world without screens or technology, where time seemed to follow a different rhythm. There, among the stables and open fields, she rode snow-white ponies and spotted ones whose coats resembled cappuccinos dusted with cocoa.

In this world of her own, Neve moved with the confidence of someone who had never questioned her place in it. The horses were her companions, and the land around the stables was a territory she explored with curiosity and an instinctive sense of freedom. She needed neither imaginary kingdoms nor fairy-tale promises. Her adventures belonged to everyday life, shaped by the unpredictable nature of the animals she loved and the quiet understanding that grew between them.

At times, she could be heard talking to the ponies, and it seemed as though they were about to answer, their ears pricked forward, their eyes attentive. Their exchanges followed a language of gestures, glances and silences, revealing a bond that seemed to exist beyond words.

Neve seemed to possess something adults gradually learn to forget: the ability to inhabit the present without wishing to be elsewhere. Her world was small in its geography, yet boundless in the possibilities it offered. Within it, freedom was neither a distant promise nor something to be conquered, but an ordinary part of being alive. Her greatest treasure was happiness.

Happiness is a simple thing.