Hello everyone, and welcome back to my Equiworld blog! It's Emma here, a grey draught mare with a white mane and tail, living the good life in the beautiful hills of Hayfield near Aberdeen in Scotland. Today, I'm taking you on a journey through my life and what I saw and felt in the year 578 AD.
I'm starting this year with a bit of a yawn and a stretch. As a draught horse, my days usually consist of pulling the heavy cart for our farmer, Angus, a kind man with hands like warm velvet and a gentle way with his horses. We pull loads of wheat to the mill in the valley and haul firewood back to the homestead, and of course, there are the joyous trips to market where we transport all sorts of exciting things: tools, cloth, pottery, and sometimes even delicious fresh cheese!
The sun is warming the stable this morning, a pleasant feeling after a frosty winter. It's spring, and everything is bursting with new life. The meadows are green and bright with dandelions, a favourite treat that Angus lets us munch on after we've worked hard. I love this time of year when the air is crisp and clean, and you can hear the birds singing merrily.
My favourite part of spring is seeing all the young foals gamboling in the fields. Their legs are wobbly and their eyes bright with curiosity. It's heartwarming to watch them learn to run and play with each other. It brings back memories of my own childhood, filled with playful days and exploring the fields with my siblings. We'd race each other, chase butterflies, and nibble on clover – a carefree time that feels so far away now that I'm a responsible adult horse.
Speaking of foals, I heard from my friend Clara, a chestnut mare in the village, that they have just celebrated the arrival of a new princess! It's believed she will inherit the throne one day, but she is still just a tiny thing. The celebration involved a feast in the village square, with music, singing, and laughter, a true community celebration. They even let the foals nibble on some of the food, as long as their mothers were supervising of course. Clara whispered that there might even be a parade, though I couldn't see it myself as I was hard at work helping Angus haul stone for the new village well. I'm happy for the little princess, though; her future looks bright, much like the green grass underfoot.
This summer, the weather was mostly pleasant and the fields were filled with colourful wildflowers. There's a large willow tree near our farm where we like to rest in the afternoon. The willow is always alive with hummingbirds flitting from blossom to blossom. They are fascinating creatures with wings that move so fast they look like they are suspended in mid-air. Some of the other horses are afraid of them, but I find their buzzing music comforting.
We spent our days hauling supplies and moving goods around the county, helping farmers prepare for the harvest. This year, there's talk of an impending invasion from the south, a force of barbarians they say. The whispers travel through the horse world on the wind. The rumours say these people are cruel and want to plunder our land. I see worry in the eyes of Angus and the other villagers, but also a steely determination. They are preparing for war, drilling with their swords and arrows, sharpening their spears. It fills the air with a tension that even the chirping birds cannot ignore.
Our village leader, a wizened old man with eyes that seem to hold the secrets of the ages, gathered the villagers for a meeting. He announced that he has been in contact with other villages, uniting them to stand together against this threat. Horses, like me, were a crucial part of this defence plan. I stood proudly among the other horses, ready to serve and protect. We are more than just animals; we are loyal and brave, and will fight alongside the men who are standing by us. Angus even patted my flank and gave me a sweet treat, promising me extra carrots if I return safe from this battle. It feels reassuring to know that he cares, even during these trying times.
Then, the day finally came when the enemy reached our valley. I was one of the horses chosen to transport soldiers to the frontline. The fighting was fierce and brutal. The men, though outnumbered, fought bravely and held their ground, even as arrows rained down upon us. I saw bravery, strength, and unity that day, and felt a surge of pride for our people.
After days of relentless battle, we prevailed. We chased the invaders back to their homeland, leaving them defeated and wounded. The village erupted in joyous celebrations as the weary soldiers returned, each one a hero in my eyes.
This year was not only about battles and hardships. It was also about the quiet beauty of the natural world, the companionship of my fellow horses, and the unwavering support of the humans who cared for me. It was a year of lessons learned, resilience tested, and courage demonstrated. As a horse, I witnessed history unfolding, not always graceful or joyful, but always filled with lessons and lessons we must all learn together, humans and horses alike.
And now, as we enter autumn, I can feel the crispness in the air and the leaves beginning to change colour. My hooves feel the familiar crunch of fallen leaves beneath them. A wave of peaceful nostalgia washes over me. Soon the cold days of winter will arrive, and with them, the comforting warmth of the stables and the reassuring presence of the humans I love.
Until next time, fellow Equiworld enthusiasts! Stay safe, and remember, even in challenging times, we always have the strength to persevere.
