The Hungry Pony

Somewhere beneath that enormous mass of tangled hair is a perfectly respectable pony, although you might be forgiven for thinking it has rather given up on personal grooming.

Standing almost belly-deep in a great expanse of bracken, this dark brown character appears to have found precisely what it was looking for. A mouthful of greenery, a comfortable place to stand and absolutely no reason to concern itself with anything beyond the next bite.

There is something rather appealing about a pony that looks as though it has spent the entire morning getting thoroughly untidy. Its thick mane hangs in long, uneven strands across its neck, with a few lighter wisps catching the daylight. The forelock falls over part of its face, giving it a slightly scruffy appearance that suits its surroundings remarkably well.

The bracken is almost as much a subject of this photograph as the pony itself. It stretches across the entire scene, a dense jumble of overlapping fronds in countless shades of green. No horizon is visible, no distant hill, and barely a glimpse of the ground. Vegetation has swallowed everything, leaving the pony standing in what looks like an endless green field of ferns.

Bracken is particularly good at creating this impression. During the warmer months, it can grow into thick, waist-high stands that obscure paths, rocks and almost anything else unfortunate enough to be shorter than the surrounding fronds. Its broad leaves overlap to form a continuous canopy, transforming otherwise open countryside into something altogether more enclosed.

For a photographer, such dense vegetation presents an interesting problem. There is very little separation between the individual plants, and the background can easily become a confusing collection of similar shapes and colours. Here, however, the pony's rich brown coat contrasts strongly with the greenery.

Its dark mane creates another layer of texture, particularly around the neck and shoulders, where the individual strands catch just enough light to distinguish them from the coat beneath. The broad curve of its back is clearly visible above the surrounding plants, while the lower body disappears almost completely into the bracken.

The pony looks toward the left of the frame, its ears raised and one dark eye visible beneath the untidy forelock. A small piece of vegetation protrudes from its mouth. It is a wonderfully unguarded expression, somewhere between mild curiosity and complete indifference.

Ponies are well suited to life in Britain's more exposed countryside. Many native breeds developed the tough constitutions, thick coats and sturdy builds needed to cope with rough grazing and changeable weather. Their ability to make use of relatively sparse vegetation has long made them a familiar sight across moorland and upland landscapes.

Of course, not every plant growing amongst the bracken is suitable forage, and the presence of all that greenery does not necessarily mean good grazing is abundant. Bracken itself is toxic to horses and ponies if consumed, particularly in significant quantities over time. The leafy mouthful in this photograph cannot be identified confidently, but it is certainly getting the pony's attention.

What I enjoy most about this photograph is its lack of ceremony. The pony has not obligingly lifted its head, arranged its mane or stepped into a convenient clearing. It is simply standing amongst the vegetation, chewing away, while the greenery threatens to reclaim the rest of the frame.

And judging by that determined expression, lunch is nowhere near finished.