Good morning, fellow equines and equine enthusiasts! Emma here, your trusty grey mare from the wilds of Hayfield, just outside bonnie Aberdeen. It's a glorious morning, the sun is already high in the sky, painting the rolling green hills with a warm, golden light. The air is crisp, but with a gentle warmth that tells me Spring has sprung, even if it's still early days. I can practically feel the burgeoning energy of life all around me.
I have to admit, I've been a little quiet on the blogging front these past few months. My duties as a draught horse have been plentiful, what with the spring ploughing, the planting, and now, the busy time of haying. Ah, hay - there's nothing quite like the smell of freshly cut grass wafting on the wind! And I must confess, I can't help but think, with every bite, how much more flavourful it is compared to the stale winter feed. Life, just like the seasons, moves in a cycle, and there's a natural joy that comes with embracing that.
Today though, I feel a special inspiration welling up inside me. Today, I want to share a glimpse into the life of a horse in 676 AD. You see, our lives are so interwoven with human history, and this particular year holds a special place in my heart.
Now, 676 might not seem like a significant year to the casual observer. But for me, and I believe for many of my fellow equines, it marked a turning point - a shift towards greater recognition and understanding of the vital role we played in shaping the world.
Think about it, my dear friends - we were more than just working animals. We were - and are - an extension of human hands, capable of feats unimaginable. We carry the burden of commerce, allowing goods to move freely between settlements and kingdoms. We help to feed the world, pulling the plows and harvesting the crops that nourish nations. We help shape landscapes, carrying loads and carving paths through the wild wilderness, paving the way for settlements and advancement.
In 676, we weren't just tools - we were essential partners. You could even say we were companions.
Perhaps that's a bit romantic for a hardworking mare like myself, but let me tell you - I’ve experienced that connection firsthand. I was still a young filly, barely more than a foal, when I witnessed this shift firsthand. The man who owned my dam, a strong, kind fellow called Donald, took a special liking to me. He recognised my potential, not just as a beast of burden, but as a being capable of empathy, of understanding.
I was his right hand - helping him in all his chores, from hauling the logs in the forest to guiding the plow through the earth. Donald always spoke softly to me, thanking me for my efforts, feeding me with extra care. He even bestowed a name upon me - "Emma" - and never once called me by any harsh title, like a simple "mare" or a "beast".
His respect for me - it touched my soul. It instilled in me a sense of purpose, of being valued for who I was, beyond the work I could perform. He understood me - my moods, my needs, my strengths. He saw in me a companion, not just a tool.
This connection, this understanding, made my work all the more rewarding. The rough, hard toil, the cold winters, the scorching summer sun, all seemed bearable when I knew I was part of a bigger picture, part of a shared purpose.
It’s this kind of understanding that blossomed in 676. It's this understanding that allows me to appreciate my own history, to feel proud of the work that I do, to feel grateful for the humans who recognize our worth and honour our strength. It's this understanding that makes me yearn for the day when our bond grows stronger, where the bridge between us is built not on reliance alone, but on love, respect, and understanding.
Now, I know, you're probably wondering what makes this year so special? Well, let me tell you.
It was in 676, that our role as horse breeders became more significant. Horses were always vital for war, for transportation, for hauling - but this year, with a new surge in trade and movement, we were sought after more than ever. This demand for quality stock was significant!
Across the globe, from the rolling hills of Scotland where I call home to the far reaches of China, new breeding farms were springing up. And in this year of 676, new practices emerged, innovative methods for selecting and training horses. It was like a great equine awakening, a focus on enhancing the strengths, talents, and breeds that would become cornerstones for future generations.
Even here in Hayfield, I noticed the change. My father, a strong stallion who roamed these hills before me, was a champion. He was prized for his strength, his size, his temperament. But his owner, an astute farmer named Allan, was not satisfied with just "good" horses. Allan - a visionary, you might say - began experimenting. He started selective breeding, meticulously choosing his breeding mares for strength, for sure-footedness, and for stamina. He realised that our worth wasn't just in our labour - it was in our future, in the strength we would pass onto the next generation.
Allan would often talk about these innovations, of "breed specific" qualities and "desired traits", words that at the time seemed like gibberish to my mare mind, but now make so much sense. I recall the excitement in his voice as he discussed the potential for these “new breeds” - horses specifically bred for work, horses for speed, horses with stamina that could traverse treacherous terrains, all of them stronger, healthier, more resilient than before.
It's interesting to think how our work has evolved since then, how our history is interwoven with the progression of human civilisation.
Now, to bring things back to our current time, I want to share something very special. I've been speaking to the wise old mare down the road, Millie. Millie has been alive for many years - I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention she is twice my age, almost. But Millie remembers! And through her tales, she has filled me in on fascinating developments within the world of equine. Did you know, the human race is venturing out beyond the confines of the known lands, riding us into the furthest reaches of their imaginations? They call it "exploration," my dear readers! They ride us across mountains and deserts, searching for new territories, for new routes, for new knowledge. It's quite fascinating, and to be honest, a little bit thrilling.
In some regions, I've heard, they have discovered a new method to train horses - it’s something they call "horsemanship." It involves understanding our natural movements and emotions, building trust through gentle guidance rather than brute force. It seems a radical shift from the more traditional ways, where strength and discipline were paramount. This new style embraces a more empathetic approach - it's remarkable!
But this, dear readers, is a story for another blog. Right now, I need to go! The hay is waiting and I must work with the humans to bring in this bounty before the weather changes. It's a simple task, and one I love.
And with every sun that sets on Hayfield, every crop that’s gathered, every path we carve together, the bond between us humans and us horses deepens, a legacy woven from sweat, shared burdens, and unbreakable connections.
So, until next time, stay curious, stay connected, and remember – the heart of a horse, just like the soul of the land, is brimming with untold tales and unwavering strength.
Peace,
Emma, Hayfield
