Hello, fellow equines! Emma here, a grey draught mare with a flowing white mane and tail, writing to you from my humble home in Hayfield, near Aberdeen, Scotland. Today's date? A rather grand one – the year 433, though we don't really count it like that in the stables. For us, it's simply the passage of seasons and the rhythm of the farm. But I find it fascinating to document the happenings of the world as seen through my four hooves.
Welcome to my blog, “Emma's EquiWorld”! If you’re new to the website, welcome! This blog is dedicated to sharing my observations, thoughts, and experiences about the world of horses, from my unique perspective. I do love my writing – a talent inherited from my grandmother who was a messenger horse for the Roman Army, sending dispatches through the forests! I'll try to make these entries both interesting and educational. And since this is my 433rd blog post, why not take you through the life of a horse back in 433!
The dawn chorus begins even before the sun peeks over the hills. It’s a lovely sound – a symphony of chirping birds and the soft rustling of leaves in the morning breeze. The sun feels warm already, but the air carries a distinct nip, a reminder that the Scottish winter is still lingering. Soon, however, we will see the start of spring - it's in the air already, in the hopeful whispers of wind and the first tiny green shoots of life peeking through the soil.
The farm is abuzz with activity. The men, their faces flushed pink from the cold morning air, tend to the cattle. I can hear the clanking of metal from the blacksmith as he shapes horseshoes on the anvil, his hammer striking a rhythmic beat. We mares, well, we have our duties too – mostly hauling supplies for the men. My strength comes in handy when pulling heavy loads, especially as the farming season is just getting started.
As the sun climbs higher, casting long shadows on the green slopes of the Hayfield, the call to work echoes through the air. The farm relies on us, the horses, for everything, and today is no different. I am yoked with my good friend, Barley – a chestnut gelding with a thick, curly mane. We pull a heavy wooden wagon, piled high with sacks of oats and barley, down the winding road towards the village.
Ah, the village – a lively centre of trade and commerce. The streets, cobbled with rough stones, bustle with activity. We horses share the paths with carts laden with wares, carts being pulled by sturdy ox-teams – they are slow, but reliable creatures. I have heard some tell of larger animals, the kind that pull giant ships across the seas! But I have yet to lay eyes on one.
While barley and grain are exchanged, there’s also an exchange of knowledge, gossip and laughter. It's here where I’ve encountered stories about events happening outside our Hayfield region. Tales of powerful Roman soldiers riding on horseback, wielding mighty weapons, and their conquests. Of great emperors who ride through streets paved with gold. Of races, held far away, where the best horses compete in a flurry of speed and agility. I love these stories, but I do prefer my simpler life of work and quiet moments.
Back at Hayfield, I graze in the paddock with the other mares and young foals. The paddock, bordered by sturdy wooden fencing, is a place of sanctuary, a respite from the day's hard work. I watch the young ones as they prance and frolic, their manes flying in the breeze. Their boundless energy reminds me of a time when I was but a young filly, my legs strong but clumsy, my coat soft and shining in the sun. It feels like a lifetime ago.
We mares, however, take our roles very seriously. We look after our foals, guiding them with a gentle snort and a knowing flick of our ears, instilling in them the ways of the horse, teaching them how to graze, how to find shelter, and how to gallop when the mood takes us! We teach them about the rhythms of the land and how to live a good life. The future of our kind relies on them!
This time of year, when the days are longer and the air is filled with the scent of wildflowers, is especially cherished. It's a time for the horses to bond, to share stories of days past, and to prepare for the demands of the upcoming harvest. For my kind, this is where the work really begins. We are more than beasts of burden - we are integral to the survival of many a farming family in this land!
It is during these long, warm days that we horses share our most secret desires. As we nibble on grass and watch the sun slowly dip below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant colours of orange and purple, we talk. Sometimes, a dream escapes our nostrils - a vision of the past, of galloping through fields of wild grass and fragrant wildflowers, feeling the wind whipping against our coats, living freely! These are dreams shared across many generations of horse and pony – and these memories keep our spirits up. We long for freedom - yet we understand that our fate lies in the service of humankind.
As night falls and the stars begin to twinkle in the vast expanse of the sky, I seek shelter in the stable. Here, the air is cool and earthy. The scent of hay mingles with the sweet smell of stable manure. There is a warmth, a comfort, to being within these walls. As the night goes on, and a soft wind whispers through the eaves, I close my eyes and dream.
Life as a draught horse in Hayfield is simple yet full of meaning. We toil, we graze, and we bond. But it’s these seemingly simple things that shape our lives, our experiences, our legacy. I find that the world, despite its changes, stays pretty constant for us horses, The rhythm of the farm, the warmth of companionship, the smell of the earth and the crisp Scottish air — these are the things that bring us joy and a sense of belonging. It's a beautiful life and I am grateful for it. I am proud to call myself Emma, the draught horse, and to play my role in the bigger world around me.
Until next time,
Emma the Draught x
Don't forget to check out other blog posts in my series!
You can follow my posts at www.equiworld.org
Stay safe, and may your mane always flow in the breeze.
Word Count: 1315
This is just the start of Emma's journey. What happens next in 433? What stories will Emma uncover? Will she face new challenges or make new friends? Tune in next time to find out!
