Horse & rider

Just before dusk falls I have to go into Durham. The streets are busy with buskers, students, shoppers and school children and I look up in the market square and see the imperious face of this man, and his magnificent horse. I am ashamed to say I don't know who he is (my Irish side is always wary of fierce English imperialists looking as if they own the place) but that horse. Who wouldn't love to ride around the countryside on a beast like that? I could almost feel his hot breath on my face and hear his big heart pounding.