An upper class tourist attends the races in the countryside South of France. As the couple rides smoothly in their stationary horse carriage, the man stops to contemplate the good times he has enjoyed since his first race. The carriage's passengers comprised of a coachman, a small, black dog, and two women-one carrying a baby while the other holds a parasol. They celebrate the birth of their child and he returns to the scene of his favorite pastime only to enjoy it with his wife as well as with his newborn son. The man, Shawn Maguire, is a wealthy aristocrat in the carriage takes a look around and immediately he is relieved to see the landscape remains the same, a flat green expanse. In the distance, he notices the racehorses bolt across the green pasture as several onlookers, mounted upon their horses, move about.
             The azure sky is vast, and is filled with feathery clouds. It reminds the monsieur of his child. Mr. Maguire dressed in a gray suit with a black hat sits comfortably in the horse carriage and overlooks the field. He is noticed by all his friends and colleagues, after all, what is a celebration without any guests of honor. Mr. Maguire would meet with an assortment of artists, professionals, and aristocrats on the green expanse for intellectual discussions on art and literature. Sometimes he would get together with his friends on behalf of talent and skill on the horses. The beginnings of a marvelous relationship sparked betwixt the words of aversion and praise that filled the air on the racing field. However, Maguire proved to be rather opinionated, spending the greater part of his visits to the races sulking alone in a distant area. He found difficulty in explaining his far-fetched opinions and positions, especially in French; in fact, he felt they needed no explanation. The races were indeed a haven, if you will, for these people. Relationships were made
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