Ahoy there, fellow equine enthusiasts! It's Emma here, your friendly grey draught mare from Hayfield, just outside Aberdeen. This week I wanted to talk about our lovely year in 0714. It was quite an exciting time to be a horse, actually, filled with a little bit of this and a whole lot of that!
It all began back in spring, with the air crisp and the grass starting to peek up green through the frost-kissed earth. I’ll never forget the smell of freshly turned soil after our farmers ploughed the fields - my hooves could barely keep pace with their eagerness. There were fields upon fields of barley, oats and wheat to be sown, with us strong girls helping the lads get the seeds in the ground. My white mane, all gleaming and shimmering, blew proudly in the spring breeze as we pulled the sturdy wooden plows, my heart singing along to the rhythmic creak of the ploughshares.
The early summer was a time for long days and lazy afternoons spent grazing in meadows thick with wildflowers. Buttercups like golden coins dotted the landscape, while lavender and daisies brought an ethereal sweetness to the air. We could spend hours nuzzling with our fellow mares and foals, the sunlight catching the dust particles dancing in the air. This is truly the life, eh?
One particular afternoon, we all decided to have a bit of a frolic in the meadows. There were four of us mares - me, Elsie, a sleek chestnut mare with a playful spirit, Beatrice, a sturdy brown mare with a wise head on her shoulders, and Millie, a sweet young mare still learning the ropes. We pranced around the fields, kicking our hooves and playing hide-and-seek amongst the hay bales. I had to admit, Millie was rather a good at hiding, her black coat merging effortlessly into the shadows of the haystacks. It was pure joy, a moment of simple pleasure we horses could all appreciate.
Speaking of simple pleasures, the days would often be punctuated by the gentle clip-clop of our hooves as we transported supplies to the village, pulling the stout carts laden with fresh vegetables and eggs from local farms. We also carried the blacksmith’s tools to nearby villages, each clang of the metal echoing the rhythm of our steps, and even made our way to the local market once a fortnight to trade goods from Hayfield for the local honey and fine linen from further south.
Come August, it was time for the yearly sheep shearing. Now, I'll admit, these were exciting days indeed! Our humans worked diligently, guiding the sheep towards the shearing area, where they'd be carefully trimmed. This provided them with warm fleeces to use for the coming winter, and it always amazed me to see how many blankets and tunics they could create from the fleecy wool. For us horses, it meant a few extra treats and extra hay - a fair trade for helping the process run smoothly.
However, there were moments during these busy months that we weren't solely devoted to work. Every fortnight, the farmers would take us to the local lake for a cool splash in the water, the sound of the waves and the gentle currents a welcome respite from the hard work. Those afternoons were all about feeling the sun on our coats and playing in the refreshing lake water, enjoying the coolness as it washed away any fatigue from a long day’s work.
Autumn brought a different kind of magic. The meadows turned ablaze with scarlet, crimson, and gold, and the crisp, clean air had a sense of foreboding. We knew that winter was approaching, and soon we'd be exchanging our freedom of the meadows for the warm security of the stables.
Our farmers knew the importance of preparing for the long winter ahead. We were all fitted with new, thick woolen blankets to ward off the biting wind, and the stables were meticulously cleaned and replenished with fresh hay for us to graze on throughout the winter months. They weren’t a bit worried, for winter had always meant extra time for lounging around, enjoying long snoozes in our warm beds, and indulging in treats brought by our attentive humans.
Although our work slows down during winter, it doesn't completely stop. We would pull carts of coal and logs for the families in Hayfield, ensuring they stayed warm throughout the chilly nights. The sounds of our hooves on the snowy path would be the comforting rhythm that accompanied their winter evenings. And don't forget the Christmas feast! The preparations were grand, and even us horses would receive an extra portion of the delicious hay. There would be much revelry, feasting, and the joy of carols ringing through the cold air.
You know, for us horses, each day is a gift. Each morning is a new adventure. Whether we are working hard, relaxing under the sun, or simply grazing in the meadows, every moment holds its own unique magic. It is a joy to wake up in the warmth of the stables, the sun gently kissing the windows, and know that another day of companionship and life awaits.
And that's what life was like for us horses in Hayfield back in 0714. You could say, it was a rather jolly year, full of busy days and sweet moments, the simple joys of equine life. So, stay tuned, fellow horse enthusiasts! I have many more tales to share about our lives in Hayfield throughout the centuries. Keep checking back in to the Equiworld Blog to hear about what’s been happening on the homestead, as they say!
Till next time!
Emma
