By Emma, a Grey Draught Mare from Hayfield
A crisp Scottish breeze ruffles my white mane as I stand gazing across the fields of Hayfield. The morning sun paints the landscape in shades of gold, casting long shadows that stretch across the fertile ground. My hooves feel solid and grounded on the familiar earth, and the familiar scents of fresh hay and damp earth fill my nostrils.
It's 0211, a year in which I, Emma, am enjoying my life as a draught mare here in the heart of Scotland. It's a busy year for me, filled with hard work, strong friendships, and a sense of belonging in the world. And I, as you might expect from a horse of my age, have been thinking about what it means to be a horse in this year of history. It feels important to document these things, for the world moves on, and it's good to leave a record of our lives for the future. So, without further ado, let's step into the fascinating world of a draught horse in the year 0211!
Spring Arrives
The spring sun shines warmly on our backs as we pull the plough through the fields. The air is alive with the chatter of birds, and the promise of a bountiful harvest fills the hearts of the farmers. We draught horses are the backbone of agricultural life, our strength and endurance unmatched.
I'm blessed to be part of a small, tight-knit group of draught horses at the Hayfield Farm. We have our work to do, and I am certainly no exception, but the community here is unlike any other I know. We spend our days together, eating together, resting together, and of course, working together. And you know what they say, horses thrive when they have a strong social bond. This is our family.
Among my stable mates is a sturdy black stallion named Thistle. He is the eldest of our group, with a heart as kind as his hooves are strong. He knows every field like the back of his hoof and is always patient in sharing his wisdom with us youngsters. I learn much from Thistle. His presence brings calmness and security.
Then there's Hazel, a chestnut mare with a playful spirit and a coat that shimmers in the sunlight. She loves to gallop with abandon and shares a particular fondness for fresh grass and sweet oats. And we also have Monty, a bay gelding, known for his unwavering loyalty and his tendency to break out in a graceful gallop in the evenings. We've shared many exciting adventures and stories over the years!
Summer Days
The fields become lush, a carpet of vibrant greens and golden yellows as summer blossoms around us. The farm bustles with life as hay is cut, gathered, and stacked, ready for the winter months. These are busy, hard-working days for us horses. But with every heavy breath and every strong pull, there's a sense of pride. We feel the responsibility for nourishing the land, and our part in sustaining life for those around us.
Every summer evening, as the golden light begins to wane, I often stand by the stream that runs through the farm, soaking in the coolness of the water on my tired muscles. It is a moment of serenity, a respite in the long day, a moment to just enjoy the world around me. A quiet chirping cricket sings its evening song, and I can hear the distant sounds of the village coming alive.
Autumn's Bounty
The days grow shorter, and the colours of the fields shift into brilliant oranges and reds as the season turns towards autumn. It's a time of immense change, a time of gathering and preparation for winter's cold embrace.
And our lives change accordingly. We are no longer pulling the plough but are instead involved with hauling goods to market. The rhythmic clopping of hooves against cobblestone streets, the bustling energy of market day - it all feels so grand. These trips into the larger world of Aberdeen feel like thrilling adventures, and it is a lovely contrast to our busy but somewhat simple life in Hayfield.
I find myself dreaming about the possibilities the world holds for a draught horse like me. Perhaps, I think, I might travel to a place far from Hayfield, seeing different fields, meeting new horses, discovering unknown corners of our world. Perhaps...
The Whisper of Winter
The cold sets in, and the world takes on a cloak of white. The days are short, but the nights are long, and our barn smells comforting with the scents of hay, oats, and wood smoke. I love these nights. Our stable has become a cozy sanctuary for our tired muscles. Thistle, Hazel, and Monty gather around me, sharing warm memories and dreaming of brighter days ahead.
Winter may mean slowing down our physical work, but it also signifies a special kind of fellowship. We huddle together, our breaths forming frosty clouds in the still air. I watch the snowflakes as they swirl and twirl in the wind, each one like a delicate pearl against the darkened sky.
There's a special feeling that pervades these winter nights, a sense of deep contentment and belonging. I'm not a wild horse roaming free, nor am I a pampered steed, kept in a luxurious stall. But here in Hayfield, among my stable mates and amidst the familiar sights and sounds of this small, close-knit community, I am at peace. I am a horse in the year 0211.
The Legacy of Our Kind
As I look back on this year, I think about all the ways horses like myself play a significant part in the world. It's not just about pulling plows, hauling goods, or carrying people. It's also about companionship, friendship, and the bond between humans and animals. It's about our place in the tapestry of life.
Looking out from my stable, I see the world bustling with activity, farmers tilling the soil, tradesmen going about their business, families enjoying their day. In these moments, I am struck with the awe of the natural world and how much of it revolves around us horses. I find it humbling, a sense of wonder.
For even in these simple, seemingly ordinary moments, there is an extraordinary depth. Horses are a vital part of life, from ancient times right to the present, and through stories like mine, maybe our legacy lives on in a tangible way, preserved for future generations.
My story is but one among thousands, perhaps millions of others across this grand land. There are the war horses that charge through the fields of battle, the noble steeds that carry brave knights on daring quests, the tireless steeds that navigate bustling city streets, and of course, the humble workhorses that like myself, are the lifeblood of agriculture, working quietly but surely, contributing in our own unique way.
As the new year dawns, I feel hopeful. The year 0211 is a testament to the power, resilience, and value of the horse, in all its glory. It is a time of deep joy, hard work, and lasting friendship.
May your hooves find solid ground and may your mane blow freely in the wind, dear readers, in the year 0211 and for many years to come!
Please comment below and share your thoughts about horses and this remarkable year!
