Hello, horse-loving friends! It's Emma, your favourite grey mare with a penchant for history. Welcome to another exciting installment of EquiWorld, where we delve into the wonderful world of our equine ancestors!
Today, we're travelling back to the year 776 AD. I must say, things are rather different here in Hayfield, nestled in the foothills of the Scottish Highlands. Now, if you're like me and like your stories spiced up with a bit of dramatic flair, 776 AD doesn't exactly scream "page turner", but trust me, dear reader, it's a year full of intrigue and a whole lot of… drumroll… heavy lifting.
Now, let's picture the scene. The weather in this neck of the woods is much the same as it is today - grey skies, biting wind and the occasional, welcome burst of sunshine. However, the only real “street” we have is a rough dirt track leading from the farms to the local village.
It's in this village where we horses earn our oats. Most of my kin work on farms - the farmers couldn’t manage without us to pull their ploughs, or the heavy carts for carrying hay and crops. But the big event in this year is the yearly market. I'm talking the biggest event in our little village's calendar - where people come from miles around to sell their wares, share stories, and find a bargain or two.
You know, I've heard tales of even bigger events across the water in the lands known as "Francia", but I’ll tell you all about them in another blog. They even have massive chariots with beautiful horses - those, I hear, are very special.
For now, though, I'm stuck in the north with my hardworking, sturdy friends, who, like myself, make the journey to market alongside the farm carts, our necks straining as we haul bales of wool, hides, and cheeses. Sometimes, it’s all the produce from the previous harvest. It’s tough work, hauling heavy loads and fighting the wind, but it's our job, and we take pride in our strength.
Now, I must admit that even I, a creature of such strength and loyalty, get weary of these long journeys. After all, there’s only so much scenery a horse can appreciate! I do enjoy the chatter with the other horses though. We’ve built strong bonds with our brethren and make the most of each trip, exchanging gossip and stories. Did you know there’s a tale making the rounds about a group of stallions who supposedly found their way to the "land of sunshine and palm trees"? Sounds delightful, don't you think? I'll be sure to ask for more details at our next meeting at the local waterhole.
And speaking of water, a hot bath would be an absolute dream at this moment. Imagine, the feeling of warm water gently cascading down my mane and washing away the dirt of the journey… sigh!
Anyway, as the sun begins to dip below the hills, casting a warm glow on the village, the market becomes even more vibrant, buzzing with energy, and with more people than I've seen since the last market. You'd think the world had gathered! It’s all the activity of these folks, that fuels our fire! And if that's not enough, I can smell a delightful whiff of baking bread, wafted on the breeze. I hope it’s a good one! That reminds me, our trainer gave me an extra helping of oats before leaving today – thank goodness! The oats were all plump and delicious. I really hope the barley is good at the market, I'm sure there will be something delicious available to add a little spice to the oats this month.
The market ends around sunset, as the moon climbs high in the night sky, and a new day dawns, with the farmers setting out to plough the land again. Our jobs may not be exciting, but it’s a hard, honest life – and that brings contentment. I find joy in the daily grind and appreciate the friendships I’ve formed on these roads. I wouldn't trade it for the world – that is, unless that world includes a field full of palm trees. Imagine the sunshine and a delicious feast of fruit!
Of course, the year 776 AD holds more than just market days and ploughs. That year, a young Viking named Rollo landed in what would later become Normandy and started an adventure that will shape the course of European history. It seems they were known to have used horses for battle and had to cross water in longships! I have to admit, these tales fill me with awe! I would like to be as strong as those Vikings. Maybe even strong enough to jump right over a ship onto a new, unexplored island? Or maybe a field full of oats!
This year, 776 AD, might seem like a distant echo in the halls of history. However, remember this, it’s a year where horses continued their hard-working and valuable roles in shaping society, proving their importance even amidst these changing tides of history.
We may not be dashing knights riding through grand battlefields, but even here, in this remote corner of Scotland, we horses make our own kind of history. We forge our paths in the fields and along the road, hauling and helping our human companions.
Until next time, keep your hooves steady, dear readers! Remember, every hoofbeat in history matters!
Emma, Your Scottish Highland Grey.
