History of Horses in the year 0502

Hello fellow equines! Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood draught horse from Hayfield, near Aberdeen. Welcome back to my humble blog on Equiworld.org! It's been a while since my last post, what with the busy season upon us and all. I must say, it feels great to be back, tapping out these thoughts on my digital hooves (thanks to that clever new device called a "keyboard", designed especially for equine use!) and sharing with all of you.

Today, I want to talk about a special year – 502. Why 502, you ask? Well, for a horse like me, with a passion for history and all things equestrian, this year holds particular significance. You see, 502 is the year I was born, and in the great tapestry of time, that makes it pretty darn special, wouldn't you say?

So, gather round, let me whisk you back to 502 and share my memories of this enchanting year, as witnessed by a young grey mare with a heart full of oats and a spirit full of fire!

I've always been a curious mare, and even back then, as a wobbly-legged foal, the world held so much intrigue for me. I’d listen, ears pricked, as the elders would tell stories of times gone by – about the Roman Empire, their legions marching through this land, their chariots rumbling with might. And then there were the Celts, with their wild horse hunts, their war cries echoing across the hills.

Those were tales from ages past, whispers carried on the breeze. But even then, 502 felt different. The world seemed to be shifting and changing, like the colours in the sky before a storm.

While I was born into a simple life here in Hayfield – helping to tend the fields, hauling loads of hay for the villagers, and offering rides to children with wide-eyed wonder - things were a little less simple in other parts of the world. The Roman Empire, once mighty and vast, had begun to crumble, like the sandstone cliffs of our Scottish coast eroding over time. This paved the way for new kingdoms and empires to emerge, shaping the world as we knew it.

In this grand tapestry of events, horses continued to play a vital role, both on and off the battlefields. They were companions, they were workers, they were partners. Imagine, for example, the excitement when a swift horse, covered in sweat, would thunder into our village bringing news from the outside world! Every detail – about kings and queens, battles won and lost, the ebb and flow of empires, all travelled with that galloping steed.

But here in Hayfield, our life revolved around the rhythm of the seasons. Every morning, with the sun barely peeking over the rolling green hills, my mother and I would be roused from our straw bedding in the stable. The air would be crisp, filled with the sweet scent of the moors and the bleating of sheep grazing nearby.

The sound of a blacksmith's hammer clanging on the anvil was another morning staple. It's funny how the smell of hot iron always reminds me of this era – it was such a constant presence, and it meant new shoes, strong and sturdy, to keep my hooves healthy for all the work ahead. It meant keeping the horses in good shape, fit and strong for all the duties we would be expected to carry out.

One of my favorite tasks was helping the children in our village. They'd often come running to our stable, eyes sparkling, asking for a ride. Their laughter and joyous shouts echoed through the air, bringing a sense of happiness to our little world.

Then, come noon, when the sun climbed high, it would be time for my mother and me to take our places in the fields, working diligently with the farmer. He was a kind man, with hands calloused from years of hard work. He knew all about the subtle nuances of horses, the different temperaments and strengths. We understood each other without a word, working in a harmonious dance that made each day worthwhile.

The afternoons brought respite from the summer sun as we rested beneath the shade of our favourite oak tree, sharing tales with the other horses and munching on juicy grass. We were a close-knit family, we horses – bound by mutual understanding, shared experiences, and an unwavering spirit.

And then, as twilight descended, it would be time to return to the stable, tired but contented, our day’s work accomplished.

It is true that back then, horses were still considered as an essential part of the working class. They were, of course, the engine for transportation, but we also had a role in farming, construction, and, yes, warfare too. It was a simpler way of life, more physically demanding, but full of a natural, rhythmic harmony that feels a little missing today, don't you think?

But there were signs of things evolving even in my time, in Hayfield and elsewhere. New saddles, crafted with greater precision, gave us more freedom of movement and helped us be faster and more agile. This allowed our kind to become more important on the battlefields – swift couriers, loyal companions, carrying men into battle.

The year 502 wasn’t just a time of wars and change; it was also a period where breeding for certain skills took a new turn. A strong emphasis was put on endurance, agility, and a special skill called 'knighting'. Yes, even back then, we were revered as partners in this noble practice!

This brings me to my own story – to my experiences as a young grey mare. While other youngsters were busy exploring the fields or rolling in the mud, I was fascinated by my lessons with the local riding instructor. I had an incredible hunger to learn about how to use my body and how to respond to commands. He showed me how to control my hooves with grace and power. I felt the exhilarating rush of the wind in my mane as I moved at speed, with him by my side, guiding me through complex maneuvers. I think it was during that time I discovered a deep love for the art of dressage. It was in these moments, where elegance and strength harmoniously blended, that I truly felt alive.

Oh, and I also found my forever love in 502! A black stallion named Raven, strong, proud, and full of charisma. Our first meeting was at a summer fair where all the local horses gathered to show their best side. Raven stood proudly among the other horses. His coat was like night sky after a storm, with a glossy, shimmering sheen. We were both full of fire and energy, two free spirits destined to be together!

My mother was very pleased with this choice. As she put it, “A sturdy steed, and good strong legs for pulling the plough.” Of course, I agreed. We’d already exchanged fur-filled, affectionate nuzzles and had several of what Raven called 'galloping dates', under the watchful eye of his father and my mother! Yes, this little grey mare felt her heart full and was finally happy.

It’s funny how time flies. When I was a little filly in Hayfield, I had no idea what kind of journey I was embarking on. But every experience – the hard work in the fields, the laughter with the children, the bond with Raven, and even the fear during those thunderous storms - all shaped me into who I am today. And you know what? I am truly grateful for every single moment!

Now, as I wrap up this journey back in time, I can’t help but think about how much has changed, even since that year. Horses still have a special place in our hearts – as loyal friends, graceful athletes, and powerful working partners. And although our world continues to change, my belief remains steadfast – there will always be a deep, unbreakable connection between humans and horses.

From my humble abode in Hayfield, to all the equines around the globe – let's embrace the past and the future with an open heart. We are, after all, part of something bigger – a grand tapestry of history woven with strength, resilience, and unwavering love.

Until next time, fellow equines!

Your ever-loving Emma,

P.S. You can also find me on "Horseagram" - @GreyMareof_Hayfield – where I often share pictures of our everyday life. If you need any advice about horsemanship, please reach out to me there or here at Equiworld.org!