There is a horse in the picture above. A white horse. This image may not seem extraordinary on the surface, although the beauty of the horse is obvious and its pose very picturesque. The simplicity of the horse's bridle, which lends the horse an almost poetic quality, also adds charm to the picture. The image is sharp and well-exposed, carefully edited to produce a refreshing softness and harmonious tones.

But that's all, just a beautiful picture of a white horse. Until you hear the strange chain of events that happened when I took the photo. Those make this picture symbolic - this picture of a horse will always symbolize France for me.

“Once upon a time, in a picturesque corner of coastal France, where the Atlantic's waves kissed the shores of Brittany, a magical encounter unfolded, blurring the lines between reality and enchantment”

France, you see, is a peculiar, beautiful, and often delightfully macabre adventure. France is the perfect stage for unforgettable experiences and escapades.

It's Monday a few days ago. A cold, early January morning, with the temperature hovering near freezing. It's the chilliest morning I've experienced here. According to my plan, I'm heading towards Plage des Amiets, a beautiful beach nearby where I've often gone to take photos. I hope to witness a beautiful sunrise and experience something inspiring, as often happens here in France.

“On a chilly January morning, I found myself on a pristine beach that seemed to stretch to the end of the earth. Dawn's tender strokes bestowed a gentle palette—the sky, a canvas in peach and pink, a celestial artist's masterpiece"

The tide is low, and the Atlantic has withdrawn into the distance. I start walking along the damp sand, heading towards the water's edge, a journey of several hundred meters. On this wide-open beach, the wind is biting. As the light of dawn intensifies, I marvel at the subtle shifts in the sky's palette - shades of peach, pink, purple, and turquoise, each exquisitely beautiful. I've photographed the colors of the sky here a lot, and it often suffices as a subject by itself, but I also hope to find something more on the beach.

I spend a considerable time there, the relentless wind causing my eyes to water. I wander amongst the colossal boulders, walk around and climb a bit, but I don't find anything particularly interesting, and despite wearing mittens, my fingers are starting to feel numb. Finally, a little frustrated, I decided to head back.

“I wandered along the shoreline, bundled against the biting wind, marveled at the ever-changing colors above and gazed out at the retreating Atlantic horizon. But little did I know that the real magic is in the other direction”

When I reach the high ridge of the beach from the low tide area, I'm somewhat sheltered from the wind. I walk below the embankment for a while until I happen to glance upwards. There is a white horse high above me, on the beach ridge. It sees me too. Swiftly, I capture three photographs before it vanishes behind the dunes. I wonder why it's walking freely. I browse through the photos, and one of them is good enough - the same picture you see above. I'm very happy and stunned about this encounter; I didn't expect to capture anything other than rocks, the sea, and the sky.

”A peculiar sight captured my attention. High above on the beach ridge, silhouetted against the pastel sky, stood a majestic white horse. Its presence was both regal and ethereal, as if it had stepped out of a dream”

I turn around, intending to head to a rocky ramp that leads away from the beach, and I see another freely roaming animal on the ridge; it's a large white goat, clearly bigger than an ordinary goat. I manage to take three pictures of it and the goat disappears behind the ridge, just like the horse did. Unfortunately photos weren´t good.

"And there, another wondrous sight — a magnificent white goat, a creature beyond the realm of ordinary. but too soon, like the horse, it disappears beyond the ridge's embrace."

As I reach my car, parked nearby, a grand white dog approaches me. It is not on a leash but roams freely, accompanied by a man with a long black beard. The man clearly has been traveling a while, he has rugged clothes and large packbag. He stops near me and asks if I'm looking for a white cross. I say that I don`t even know what that is and with that, the man and his companion continue their journey.

“The man halted and posed an enigmatic question. "Seeking a white cross?" he inquired, his words cryptic as the ancient runes. I confessed my ignorance, lost in the enigma. Without a word, the man and his magnificent canine companion continued their journey into the realm of the unknown.”

As I watch the man and his dog disappear into the distance, I turn and prepare to stow my camera in the car. A few steps away the horse and the goat gaze upon me. They had witnessed the moment when it became apparent that I knew nothing about the white cross. Seems that im wasting their precious time, they turn as one and continue their journey, heading in the exact opposite direction of the man and the dog.

“The End”

So in one monday morning I encountered a free-roaming white horse, goat, and dog, and a free-roaming man inquiring about a white cross. It's as if I've stumbled upon the crossroads of two realities or maybe ventured close to the veil separating our world from the stories and myth. Or maybe it was just the universe's bit funnier way of telling that it will snow here in Brittany the next day. But clearly, I stand on French soil, where such extraordinary occurrences unfold.

Even if the same actors were cast in the roles: me, all the white animals, and the man inquiring about the white cross, the fairy tale quality would be missing if this were placed in a Finnish setting. It would be a banal everyday encounter in a depressing environment. That enchantment, which was achieved on a windy, winter beach beneath the peach-hued sky, with the roaring waves of the Atlantic, would not be replicated.

In Helsinki the same impression wouldn't be achieved with all those road signs and billboards filling the otherwise dull gray, artificially lit background, that big construction site. Even though the white innocence of those three animals might be possible, the idea of them roaming freely would be quite implausible. And it's clear that a man asking such questions would have serious issues, at least with alcohol, and probably other substances too, and he would likely have other mental health issues as well because in Finland, only madmen and drunks ask questions on the street. But one thing would be the same, surely, it would snow the next day!

I am grateful to find myself in France because it is evident that I am still recovering from my life in Finland.

And now half a year has passed in France, last two months here in the beautiful Brittany, in the department of Finistère, which by the way comes from the Latin words "Finis terrae" and means "the end of the earth". Next Sunday we say goodbye to Brittany and move to Normandy, near Cherbourg and next post comes from there.

A magical real-life story featuring majestic white animals and a celestial setting - an ordinary Monday in France.