Hello fellow horse lovers!
It’s Emma here, writing from my lovely home in Hayfield, near Aberdeen. Welcome to post number 532 on my Equine Adventures blog!
You know, sometimes I just think about how lucky I am to be a horse. We’re strong, beautiful, intelligent creatures, and we’ve played such an important role in history for centuries. And it’s about that history, specifically the year 532 AD, that I want to chat about today.
A Year in the Life of a Grey Draught Horse
Life in Hayfield was pretty ordinary back in 532 AD. Sure, there were the usual dangers – the occasional wild boar roaming around, the howling wolves that prowled the forests at night, and the dreaded wee Scottish rain. But generally, we were safe. Our people knew how to work with nature. They treated us with respect, feeding us the best of hay and oats. I was, as always, grateful for this kind care. I felt incredibly strong in my body. I could smell the salt air blowing in off the North Sea every morning, a glorious welcome. I'd often watch the fishermen pulling their boats up onto the shore, their faces weather-beaten, their clothes soaked with sea spray. They never once seemed to think they'd earned their catch, rather it was nature that granted it to them. I sensed a harmony there.
My day usually began with a delicious breakfast. I’d munch on my hay while enjoying the first golden rays of sunlight – those always brought a bit of joy to my heart. We didn't just eat hay back then – a nice juicy carrot would be an occasional treat! My friend Rowan, a lovely black mare with a sweet face and a stubborn streak, was always so good at bartering with the local villagers to earn an extra carrot. That's another wonderful thing about horses: we have personality and spirit. We know what we like!
After breakfast, it was time for work. I was a strong, steady grey draught horse – great for pulling plows through the fields and carrying heavy loads. Sometimes I’d even haul the large carts filled with freshly gathered kelp – a perfect natural fertilizer for the local farms! I always enjoyed working with other horses. We’d stand shoulder to shoulder in the fields, each of us strong in our way. A team – not a single unit. This camaraderie really mattered. We were, and still are, family!
There were some days, I’d spend the afternoons at the blacksmith’s, having my hooves shod, a little something called ‘care and maintenance’ in our world. The blacksmith was a big man, kind but firm with a hammer, whose work was never ending and very necessary for keeping us healthy. I liked to think of his shop as a spa for tired horse hooves. I wouldn’t let Rowan get close to the forge. She would shudder and sweat the moment she heard the ring of the anvil! But I have to admit, it did give me an uncomfortable tingling in my feet when they banged my nails on. It always made my whole body shiver.
One afternoon that I was visiting the blacksmiths shop for my monthly check-up, there was a small commotion in the village. I’ll never forget the sound of men and women, children and animals, all moving about quickly and talking excitedly. My owners said that some important people were coming to the village that afternoon.
I saw these new people ride into Hayfield - some were on their horses while others traveled by cart. The leader had dark, penetrating eyes that looked as though he was searching out an answer within them. His horses were beautifully kept. They were large, black stallions with fine features, with a calmness and an alert gaze to them. My human told me later he was the son of the King of Scotland - a prince! The others were his loyal soldiers and knights. It seemed they were travelling far and wide. We always welcomed travelers with open hearts. After all, they were all our family really, and as I got older, I realised that no matter where I went in the world, my brethren, horses of every kind, would be welcomed. I suppose that's how humans and horses are similar: we’re travelers and we’re nomads – that's simply in our DNA, so to speak.
The prince and his knights stayed a while at Hayfield and were fed and sheltered. He and his horses seemed content, well cared for and treated kindly, for which I was happy. After that, we hardly saw them again, but I do think it's a big deal that the Prince travelled here, a testament to our location being of great importance - our region played a significant role in trade, linking Scotland with Ireland and Scandinavia. That connection is, of course, very much linked with us horses. It wasn’t long until the prince and his followers left. My owners gave me a piece of bread that afternoon. A small but significant gift for which I was truly grateful, a bit like our human counterparts sharing a feast!
The Power of a Horse's Legacy
It may be 532 years ago, but that day, seeing those important visitors, has stayed with me. It made me understand the incredible influence our species has on the world.
And as I write this blog, I can see the horses in Hayfield pulling the ploughs, racing the tides in on the North Sea beach. They’re even there, in the history books, pulling the Roman legions as they march forward. Horses play a critical part in every world we know – it is always us horses who carry the burdens, transport the people, move the goods, and build empires. The power we wield is timeless, and I’m grateful to be a part of that legacy. I may not be pulling war carts in some battlefields as we’ve been doing since time began - perhaps a war was brewing in 532 as I didn't sense it at the time. There’s so much that can be written about this ancient year! Maybe one day I'll research some historical records to find out what was going on... or maybe it will be in the next Equine Adventure blog post!
Thank you for joining me today, my dear fellow equestrians. May our world always be filled with love for horses, with joy in every ride, and appreciation for all we give and all that we are!
Emma, Hayfield, Scotland www.equiworld.org
