Hello fellow equines, and welcome back to my blog, a little slice of life from Hayfield, a lovely little place near Aberdeen, in the heart of Scotland! My name is Emma, a sturdy grey draught mare with a white mane and tail - the proud, strong kind that are bred for pulling the plough, hauling goods, and being the heart and muscle of farm life.
This month, as we enter the colder, shorter days of Autumn, I'm reflecting on the year 499. A busy, varied year it has been! Life here is never boring, that's for sure! I often wonder what goes on in the wider world outside Hayfield, so I like to jot down some of the things that have happened in my corner of the world, to perhaps share with horses and humans alike.
March: The Start of a New Season
Spring came late this year, just as it often does in this corner of the world, but I felt a change in the air around mid-March. The earth felt softer beneath my hooves, the days were lengthening, and a sense of expectancy filled the air.
Our master, a kindly man called Duncan, had already been planning the planting season, and the days grew busy. We horses are a necessity, a vital part of farming, as you know, and I was paired with another grey mare named Molly. We'd work together, a strong team pulling the plough, turning the heavy soil in preparation for the barley and oats to be planted.
Molly is a kind-hearted soul, with gentle eyes that always twinkle, and a mischievous glint. We understand each other well, which makes the work go much faster. We'd chat back and forth as we pulled the plough, exchanging gossip about the new foal in the barn (so small and wobbly on its legs, bless it!), or the antics of the new stable hand, who still struggles to clean the stalls properly. But these small things bring joy to the routine!
April: The Arrival of the 'Stranger'
The news about a 'stranger' had begun to travel around the fields, amongst us horses and our human friends. A young man with wild, fiery hair had arrived in the village, seeking shelter from a long journey. He had arrived from far, far away, they said, from a land across the sea where people were both alike and very different to us here in Scotland.
Intrigued, I took the opportunity to watch from afar. I couldn't help but notice how he held himself with such confidence and ease, and he handled his horse with an unmatched grace. This visitor, called 'Aidan' according to gossip, seemed both weary and strong, and it felt to me, like his very being was overflowing with stories just waiting to be told. There was a quiet stillness about him that drew me in, an inner peace despite the turmoil of the long journey.
May: The Kindness of the Human Heart
When a group of soldiers, clad in leather and bearing arms, rode into our village a week later, a tremor of unease settled upon us all. Duncan, with his calm, measured wisdom, knew they were from another kingdom, and were coming to negotiate peace and trade with our leader.
I felt a prickle of fear at their sight, these soldiers with their grim faces and powerful weapons. The stranger, Aidan, spoke at length with the soldiers, but their faces remained stern, and his expressions mirrored their guarded moods.
Despite my initial apprehension, Duncan was at peace. I knew he'd find a way to make sense of the world, of any kind of challenge it throws our way. And sure enough, it turned out to be nothing to worry about! A few days later, the soldiers rode away, the agreement made, the danger of war seemingly averted. It felt like a collective breath was let out, by both the horses and the humans.
There was a quiet gratitude that permeated our days after their departure. We had been given another chance to continue our simple, peaceful life. A grateful silence, underscored by a growing feeling that a positive shift was about to happen.
June: New Opportunities and Old Traditions
The arrival of Summer brought with it a sense of light-heartedness, and new opportunities. With the hay fields now in full bloom, the harvesting would soon begin, and we draught horses would play our crucial part in that process.
In June, I witnessed something quite unusual, and one that brought a warmth to my heart. Aidan, now an apprentice of sorts at Duncan's forge, was attempting to make something that caught the eyes of the entire village. A magnificent silver ornament, carefully hammered and molded into the shape of a running horse. I have to say, the craftsmanship was admirable, a testament to his skill. He had been watching and learning from the villagers about their crafts and skills - a dedication to respecting tradition and finding his own place within them. This act of craftsmanship brought to life a feeling of collaboration and kinship between us.
July: The Journey Begins
A rumour started spreading through Hayfield that Duncan had accepted an unexpected offer. An invitation to share our craft skills and knowledge of horse-training with a community on the other side of the mountains, many days journey away. Our small community of Hayfield was well known for their gentle handling of horses, and the care taken in training. This kind of invitation wasn’t received lightly, and with an undercurrent of excited anticipation, the preparations began.
Aidan, now an adopted son of sorts within the community, had chosen to embark on this journey alongside Duncan. We, the horses, had become vital to our human companions, not only as workers in the fields and a symbol of hard work and strength, but also as transport for trade.
Duncan and his apprentice began their preparations. Packing supplies for the journey ahead, including barley for us horses and the blacksmith's tools that would be needed on the journey. Aidan was meticulous with every detail. A young horse like him, still finding his way in the world, eager to prove himself. Duncan always kept a watchful eye on him, ready with wise counsel and patient instruction.
It was a privilege to witness such genuine connection between these two. There were many conversations in hushed whispers at dusk as Duncan, perched on a stone by the well, shared stories of his own youth and lessons he’d learned along the way. Aidan listened attentively, taking it all in, storing up those pieces of wisdom for the future.
The day we left Hayfield arrived in a swirl of nervous energy and a comforting certainty. We set out early one morning, a small group of us horses - a mix of the stronger, more experienced older steeds, as well as a couple of younger ones, eager and ready to learn.
August: The Long Road Ahead
There is something very special about the world as you see it from the back of a horse. We have an unspoken understanding of each other - an intuitive rhythm between the horse and the human. This bond becomes more potent on a journey. We learn to rely on each other for strength, comfort and mutual companionship.
Our journey took us through the breathtaking Scottish countryside - rolling hills, deep valleys, crystal clear rivers and hidden woodlands. It was an inspiring experience for me to witness firsthand the ever-changing beauty of the world. I enjoyed watching the colours change as we made our way south: the lush greens fading into the fiery hues of Autumn.
Each day brought something new: ancient stone circles, whispered tales about mythical creatures, and bustling trading posts where our human companions would haggle over goods. I learnt new things about the wider world each day. Every sunrise marked a new beginning and every star-strewn night promised new wonders yet to be discovered.
Aidan would spend many hours observing the details of life around him. From the way a young shepherd cared for his flock of sheep, to the intricate patterns in the clouds as we travelled. This constant attentiveness gave a sense of depth to his being. Every day, he absorbed information about the world, learning to appreciate the skills, patience and wisdom of people from different backgrounds. A real sense of learning, of taking in every lesson offered along the way, even when those lessons came disguised as unexpected challenges or moments of uncertainty.
I learned, as did the other horses, that the bond between horses and humans, the shared sense of responsibility for one another, made this journey, even on days when our bodies were aching from long distances and the weather unkind, a profoundly enriching and empowering experience.
September: A World of Shared Experience
As the journey continued, our band of horses seemed to take on a shared responsibility for one another. We were not simply beasts of burden. We had grown into a team, our skills honed, our confidence strengthened through the challenges we had faced together.
One afternoon, I was particularly struck by the image of Aidan and Duncan. I remember we had come to a place that looked so different from what I knew back in Hayfield. There was a river that roared, rushing past in a torrent, and it felt as though a sense of immense power resided within its swirling currents. The two humans were staring across the swirling, turbulent water. There was an unspoken exchange between them, a moment of understanding between their souls that I could not fully grasp. But I knew with every fiber of my being that there was an enormous bond of love, respect, and trust shared between them. They would come back, they were both resolute. And in that certainty, I found peace, even when we faced uncertain pathways. And as we moved onward, I felt a shared sense of joy.
I can’t deny the weariness of those last few days, with each step carrying us a little closer to our final destination, where our journey would eventually culminate.
October: New Beginnings, Old Bonds
It felt as if all the excitement of our journey finally began to unfold before our eyes when we reached a settlement in a secluded valley some days travel south from Hayfield. It was an extraordinary place with rolling fields that stretched endlessly into the distance. The people there greeted Duncan and his young apprentice with genuine smiles, extending hands in friendship.
There was a welcome warmth in the community that put all the worries about this new chapter in our lives to rest. It felt so different from the fast-paced world of Hayfield, and I suspected that this place would bring about a quiet and reflective change within our souls.
As a large group, we had become a team of travellers who had grown, together. We were welcomed by the humans with a respect I felt only rarely back at home, with an unspoken acceptance of what we represented, both the strong horses and our dedicated humans. A real sense of acceptance of a new way of living and a deep connection with a place we knew not so well.
November: A Place of Belonging
This is where our story for 499 begins to unravel, like a fine thread through time, I can see the beauty in our little piece of the world, the way it feels like home for the animals who roam these green fields and meadows, and I can see the human imprint on these lands too. The stone houses, the cobbled paths, the fields and the trees, have all become part of something bigger, something beyond ourselves.
The quiet whispers of life now echoed in this land. As a community, a feeling of wholeness, of unity. The gentle rhythmic motion of life was beginning to soothe our weary spirits and create an atmosphere that nurtured a deeper sense of purpose, a meaning that resided within each small moment of each day.
This new settlement, as we begin the darker, cold winter, seemed to already have our human friends firmly woven within its very heart. I couldn’t help but think about all that had been experienced to arrive at this place that felt so strangely familiar. A shared journey of learning, of respect for the ways of those who had welcomed us here and a strong feeling that we all belonged. My sense of purpose had become far stronger now, woven into this fabric of shared belonging
December: Reflections on a Year
The journey has ended, but the journey continues. That is the beauty of life, as I have come to realize from these long months spent traversing across our green land.
With the turn of each new year, we are a little wiser, more experienced, and ready for all that may come our way, and so our journey is both continuous and circular.
What happens to Aidan, I am sure, is something that he is yet to discover himself. But I have learned that we as horses have the incredible capacity to support, to help one another on this journey called life, a responsibility we carry on our broad backs.
This is the essence of 499 AD, from the viewpoint of this simple draught horse from Hayfield. As we close this year, and embrace the cold, long winters, I’d like to extend my best wishes for joy, kindness and hope to all my fellow equines everywhere in this wider world.
Stay well. Emma.
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