For the rest of the day I was absorbed in my work as I painted the herd while they grazed around me. And at dusk, the lead mare rallied them by snapping and baring her teeth, and they set off once more at a canter through the marshlands. By the time Pierre came to take me home, they were gone and I was alone. But I had captured them on my canvas and I rode back to Flamants Roses with Pierre and Babette feeling light-headed with joy. This is much better than painting flamingos.

May 17, 1853

A week has gone by since my last diary entry, I see. Things have changed. The herd no longer fear me, and even the young colts will graze right up close beside me. I caught one of them today with his muzzle covered in paint from sniffing my palette! They are such curious creatures. I had to use my blouse to wipe his face clean.

The twelve, as I call them, are a tightly knit herd. The three mares heavy with foal captivate me most, and the one that I think most beautiful is the lead mare. I like how she is broad through the rump and has a thick shoulder, but her proportions are somehow still elegant and she has a very pretty head with a dished muzzle – quite unusual for a Camarguaise. Oh, and there is such a swagger about her! She moves with an air of authority through the herd, and all it takes is for her to flip her ears flat back and the other horses, the two yearling colts in particular, scatter in fear!

As well as the two colts in the herd there are three fillies. I think one of the fillies might be the offspring of the lead mare, because they often stay close together and groom each other. I would say the filly is little more than a year old. She has lost her baby fluff but is still leggy and gangly with a tufty outcrop where her mane will one day grow and her coat is still dark – somewhere between charcoal and brown. In time, it will lighten to dapple grey and then to white like her mama.

I have started drawing the herd in my sketch book. I am working on an image with all twelve horses in the frame, their poses completely natural and realistic. My ideas are still just at the rough sketch stage, but I can see things coming together in a way that pleases me very much. Soon, hopefully, I will be ready to put the sketch book aside and begin to paint on the canvas.

May 30, 1853