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A fabulous all-white horse standing alone and still in a field of tall grasses in rusty red and dark green and brown colours It is dusk on a bohereen - a 'little road' - a rural back road, in magical mid-Summer light in magically beautiful Clifden, Galway. Her unicorn-worthy ears are pricked up. She silently watched us pass. She looks mythical, as if she were hiding her wings until we were gone, after which she unfurled them and flew away. It's been a few years since I saw her for a few seconds, and I still think of her on stressy messy days. So in that sense, she is a magical horse.