When I was a child, I devoured the Silver Brumby books by Elyne Mitchell. The world where Thowra and his Brumby Kin roamed free in the Snowy mountains wove its way into my reality. A childhood friend and I pretended to be the horses from the books. We would choose who we wanted to be and escape into sandy hills on her family’s property. Free and wild, we were blissfully lost in a place where we were happy.
People mostly made me feel uncomfortable, and animals were always my safe space. I dreamed of owning lots of land and living with hundreds of rescued animals. I don’t know when, but somewhere in my timeline the Brumbies became a myth, and they disappeared from my mind. It wasn’t until I was in my fifties that I came across some photographers sharing their stunning photos, videos and tales of the Brumbies in the northern end of Kosciusko National Park that the wild horses again became real for me.
The Snowy Mountain Brumbies were once again a part of my life, but I had no idea how large a role they would actually play in my future.