There was a single moment The Noble Herd began.
It was the summer holidays, and I was sixteen years old. A neighbour had seen me riding my pony along the country lanes and asked if I might help her with a new horse she had bought for her daughter, who had additional support needs. Somehow, she thought I might be a good candidate for some summer work.
So for six weeks, I helped them. There was nothing formal or therapeutic about it. I mucked out, fed the horse, showed them how to groom and tack up, and helped her daughter go for rides. We learned together, simply by being alongside the horse and alongside each other.
And somewhere in those six weeks, something settled quietly but clearly inside me. I decided this was what I wanted to do with my life.
The short version is that I realised I would need land, horses, and a job that paid more than my weekend stint at the record shop in Enfield. So I chose a path that might one day make that possible.
That path led me into documentary and commercial film production, a career that would span more than thirty years. It gave me the chance to travel the world, live in different countries, and work with extraordinary people. I had adventures I could never have imagined, and it was, in many ways, a wonderful life.
But somewhere along the way, I forgot why I had started, and the reason I had chosen that path slipped quietly into the background.
Until one evening, in the pouring rain, everything changed.
I had been out to dinner with friends and left the restaurant to collect the car so I could come back and pick them up. I don’t remember the moment of impact itself. I remember only looking up and seeing my feet in the air, and wondering quite calmly why I didn’t have any shoes on.
And then, rather unceremoniously, I came down to land. On the other side of the road.
It turned out I had been knocked down on the pedestrian crossing.
I was very lucky. I still believe I was placed down as gently as the angels could manage that evening. But it had the effect of stopping me completely.
In the weeks that followed, living far from home and moving through recovery, I remembered something I had long since put to one side. I remembered that the reason I had become a producer was to save money. To buy a farm. To return to this work.
And that was that.
I packed up my life and moved back to the UK. About a year after coming home, I had bought the farm.
The therapeutic training came later, unfolding over time. I trained as a biodynamic craniosacral therapist, studied with somatic and bodywork teachers, explored Feldenkrais, and deepened my understanding of the nervous system and relational presence. Eventually, I began my formal training in equine-facilitated learning and graduated with LEAP, gaining my Ofqual Level 4 qualification.
Alongside that, the herd began to form. A small collection of waif and stray horses and ponies, each with their own story, each becoming part of something larger than I could have planned.
In June 2025, I quietly stepped away from the world of production and began building The Noble Herd.
We have grown softly and gently. I was fortunate to meet Belinda during my training, and we now hold this work together alongside the horses.
And here I am, writing this.
The Noble Herd may be new in its current form, but its foundations were laid a long time ago, in the dreams of a sixteen-year-old girl who discovered, quite simply, that being alongside horses and people felt like home.
Some dreams don’t disappear.
They wait.
And eventually, if you listen carefully enough, they find their way back to you.
Kate
English