Hello, fellow equine enthusiasts! It's Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood grey draught mare from Hayfield near Aberdeen, Scotland.
I'm so excited to share my thoughts and observations from this extraordinary year - 0087. I’ve always been fascinated by history, particularly how it's woven together by the lives of those who came before us, so I started this blog as a way to chronicle the stories and insights of the horses around the world. And, as usual, 0087 hasn't disappointed.
Let me paint a picture of life here in Hayfield. The world beyond our little farm feels very distant. Most folks don't travel far, and for many, their lives revolve around the land, the animals, and the simple joys of a day’s work. The air here is crisp and clean, especially on those bright, frosty mornings when I feel the winter chill bite my coat.
Here at the farm, we’ve got a lovely herd: myself, of course, along with my dear old mum, the sturdy brown mare Agnes, and her sturdy grey companion, a stallion called Samson. They say he used to be a fine racing stallion before he settled down here, and I wouldn’t know better because Samson always takes life at a much slower pace than his wild younger years. Agnes, oh, she's the epitome of maternal love - she takes excellent care of her herd, and especially of her dear little colt, Bailey, a sweet chestnut fellow just learning the ropes.
Life here in 0087 is simple but rewarding. Every morning, the sky is ablaze with hues of sunrise and our breath becomes little puffs of white in the cold morning air. I enjoy the sunrise because, being grey, I know that I blend in with the morning light perfectly - very dramatic! After our breakfast of oats and hay, the farm tasks start. Our days are mostly filled with hard work - hauling the heavy plow to prepare the fields, dragging carts filled with fresh hay and grain to the market, or pulling carts of goods between neighbouring villages. I enjoy our busy schedule. I find the repetitive movements meditative, my heart beating to the rhythm of the road beneath our hooves.
But we aren’t just about hard work. Evenings bring relaxation, the feeling of warm sun on my coat after a long day, and the delightful aroma of hay freshly mowed. We horses, we have our routines too. Sometimes, in the long hours, I watch the sky - the gentle swirl of clouds against the blue, the silent dance of stars, the brilliant moon bathing our world in silvery light. I wonder about these stars - are they just lights for us down here, or are they whole worlds of their own, like little bits of Earth strewn across the vast blackness? These questions swirl in my head as I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
The biggest news in the world of horses, however, seems to be a long way away in the warmer climes of the Roman Empire. There's chatter about horses used in racing, an exciting development! They say they’re large, majestic steeds, their coats as gleaming as sunlight on a new day. I have heard whispers about horses with special markings and an athletic build bred for this kind of race. I must admit, I’m secretly jealous. It sounds exhilarating. The energy, the thrill, the wind whipping past you as you race to the finish line! My kind, however, we are bred for work, not speed, for sure, though it does make you yearn for adventure beyond the familiar furrows of our fields.
Speaking of the Roman Empire, there’s news about chariots, large wheeled contraptions pulled by horses, that are used for racing and for war! Some folks have even heard of these new 'iron steeds', heavy chariots with powerful weapons, pulled by teams of horses that tear through the enemy like a raging storm. It all seems very far from here in peaceful Hayfield.
Yet, we horses are essential to those Romans as well. From hauling heavy stones for building structures to transporting soldiers across battlefields, horses are the key to their empire. Our role is not glamorous, but our power is undeniable. The fate of battles and even the rise and fall of empires hinge on our strength and stamina. This knowledge brings a feeling of quiet pride to me.
Now, another exciting bit of news is about a new form of travel – the use of horses for carrying mail and information between distant villages. Just imagine! Imagine, galloping across the countryside, the wind in your mane, delivering news and letters to waiting hands. It's certainly a fascinating concept, even if it is something that remains a long way off for a steady worker like myself.
My biggest joy, though, comes from being a part of my community here in Hayfield. We all pull together and work hard. This year was marked by the joyous arrival of new foals, bringing more laughter and exuberance to our farm. In the evenings, after our work is done, we all gather at the old oak tree for stories told under the starlit sky. Stories of bravery, kindness, and love are woven into the fabric of our days and nights.
One evening, a travelling merchant arrived with tales from afar - stories of grand cities, bustling markets, and exotic horses. This man spoke of horses that danced, and horses that performed incredible feats. I found myself transfixed, my ears twitching as the wind rustled through the trees and he painted these wondrous stories for us. He spoke about a kind of magic found within some horses, that allows them to learn things beyond the realm of usual chores. Horses that could walk on their hind legs, horses that jumped incredible heights, horses that seemed to almost read their owners’ minds. Such tales are fascinating. Perhaps they are true? But perhaps they are just tales - spun to entertain weary travellers around a crackling fire.
It is late now, and the full moon paints the world with a silvery light. As I write this, a sense of peace washes over me, like the soft, warm air on a summer night. My hoof falls asleep, so I think I shall go join Agnes and Samson for some more hay before the day comes and another round of farm tasks begins. Until next time, friends, stay strong, work hard, and be kind. Remember, even the most ordinary horse can hold stories of bravery, loyalty, and hard work.
Emma
P.S. If anyone has any news of horses from beyond Hayfield, do write to me. I would love to hear your tales!
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