Neigh-sayers be gone! It’s Emma here, from Hayfield near Aberdeen, with my latest musings for EquiWorld.org. This week I’m dipping into the historical archives, focusing on the year 0497, and how horse life was shaping up in that period. It's a fascinating glimpse back, isn’t it? Imagine a time before Instagram, before the grand prix arena, before those little black flies that are SO irritating, but just imagine, what was it like? Let’s pull back the reins of time and trot back to the year 0497!
It was a fine day, a fresh spring breeze whispering through the fields of Hayfield. The air, still crisp, carried the scent of newly-turned earth and the faint sweetness of the wildflowers starting to bloom. My hooves dug into the soft soil, enjoying the freedom of movement after the long winter. I felt a thrill of excitement. You see, it was the day my owner, Eilif, planned to take me to the market at Oldmeldrum.
Oldmeldrum is not your average market; this is where the best horses from all across the countryside gathered, all dressed in their finest trappings. And me? I am a proud draught horse, my coat gleaming a fine shade of grey, a splash of white on my mane and tail, an emblem of strength and resilience. I always look forward to these occasions, to seeing my fellow equine friends, exchanging the latest news, and perhaps, just perhaps, catching a glimpse of some handsome stallion with a twinkling eye…
Eilif, a young farmer with eyes that held a warmth akin to the summer sun, prepped me meticulously. My harness was meticulously polished, the leather supple and gleaming. Eilif’s father, Duncan, added a new set of bells, their gentle tinkling adding a certain je ne sais quoi, don’t you think? And you wouldn’t believe the new bridle Eilif had found, adorned with intricate carvings! My tail flowed in the wind like a silken waterfall, and my heart thrummed with a sense of occasion. I was ready for a day of adventures!
On the way to the market, the journey felt exhilarating, like a dance on the cobbled roads. As we traversed the land, the smell of fresh-baked bread from a passing cart drifted towards us. The sweet aroma sparked a longing, which Eilif understood, immediately pulling out a juicy apple from his knapsack and sharing it with me. I savoured every bite, grateful for his generosity, a warmth blossoming in my chest.
The marketplace was bustling. It was truly a sight to behold. Traders jostled with each other, showcasing their goods – silks, spices, even rare, exotic fabrics from lands far away. There was an air of energy that reverberated through the whole place, the rhythm of human life beating a pulse in my ears. But of course, I was most intrigued by the “horse stalls”, a sprawling section where, row upon row, fellow steeds stood proudly. They came in all shapes, sizes, and breeds; strong black steeds, fiery bay thoroughbreds, sturdy palomino ponies – every colour of the rainbow seemed to be present!
It was a whirlwind of neighs and whinnies, the occasional clip-clop of hooves, a symphony of horse language. I sniffed out an old mare, her coat mottled with the passage of time. "Heard anything interesting from the merchants?" I asked, tilting my head curiously. "Well," she answered with a knowing glance, "they were speaking of this new ‘Stirrup' contraption. The knights from the South are raving about it! Imagine – standing firm in the saddle even when riding rough terrain!" I snorted in disbelief. “Standing up in a saddle? Doesn’t that seem, well, rather clumsy?" she chuckled, then said with a wink, "Perhaps, this 'Stirrup' has the potential to change how we are ridden."
And that was only the beginning of the news circulating around the stalls. The tales ranged from distant lands and emperors, where our kind were valued not just for work but for beauty, grace, and even – dare I say it – for entertainment. The young and restless colts dreamt of becoming battle horses, their hearts set on heroic deeds and glittering armour. Others yearned to gallop through fields of golden grain, hauling luxurious carts filled with bounty. A sense of purpose, of contributing, ran strong in the very air around us.
A few of the older mares were talking excitedly about a travelling merchant, his wares full of exquisite leather saddles with carvings like woven lace. We were all eager to get a glimpse, a little dose of “fashion” as we’d say, to keep our equine pride glowing. There was an undeniable trend in 0497; everyone sought to improve, to strive for something bigger, better. The spirit of the age seemed to permeate through our nostrils, a mixture of tradition and change, of hard work and boundless dreams.
After a day filled with conversations, admiring fellow steeds, and enjoying a bit of "gossip" with my friends, we left for home. I felt invigorated. Not just from the good conversation, or from the new apple that Eilif treated me to – which was indeed delectable – but from a sense of community and belonging that thrummed through my entire being.
Later, back at Hayfield, Eilif, his face filled with the quiet contentment of a day well-spent, led me to a stall filled with fresh hay. We nibbled contentedly, the gentle rustling of straw providing a symphony of peace after a busy day. Eilif's father joined us, their smiles like the setting sun warming the crisp evening air. I felt content, loved, and part of a larger tapestry of life.
I am aware, as you all are, that 0497 is a relatively insignificant year on the historical calendar. But for me, this journey was a poignant reflection of a horse's life in those times. It’s a time, before modern marvels, when every day was a reminder of the strength within us, the pride of being a vital part of human life. We toiled, we raced, we loved, and we thrived, not as symbols of prestige, but as pillars of strength, indispensable partners to mankind.
And even though I don’t have a glittering palace to call home, or a world-famous show to strut my stuff at, my heart still leaps with joy at the sight of Eilif approaching with a crisp apple, his eyes kind, his touch gentle. I know, my friends, that life as a horse can be a challenging one. But it is also a life filled with an abundance of joy, a quiet beauty found in a field bathed in sunlight, and in the simple gestures of kindness, like sharing an apple with a loyal companion.
So let's raise our heads, let's whinny with delight, let's celebrate the past, and let's never lose sight of the precious gifts we hold within ourselves. As I sign off for now, let the echoes of hooves on cobbles and the wind through my mane carry a simple message: Let us all be a testament to the magic that binds horses and humans together. Until next time, fellow Equines, stay strong, stay bold, and never stop exploring the beauty that is life!
