White Horse

Hello! I'm the White Horse! Yes, that White Horse - star of a hundred postcards and a thousand pub signs. "The unchanging symbol that passes through the generations" as one travel guide writer was kind enough to say. Although "unchanging" is a bit inaccurate. They cut the turf off the chalk every seven years but that is a lot of redrawings over the centuries. And until those tradition-loving Victorians came along, I often went a lot longer between trims.

So, I am considerably slimmer than I used to be - much more streamlined - rather flattering, really! And my muzzle is a lot shorter than when I was young. My wings disappeared about three hundred years ago. And my beautiful Spaceship was already a distant memory when the Romans arrived.