Hello there, Equiworld! It's Emma here, back with another post from my home in the rolling hills of Hayfield, near Aberdeen. This time, I'm travelling back in time, all the way to 754 AD. Can you imagine, a whole 1269 years ago? It seems like a different world, and in many ways it was.
Let me take you on a journey through my hooves, and experience what it was like to be a horse in 754 AD, and how that year impacted the world around me.
The wind whispers through the barley fields as I graze peacefully beside the river. The crisp, early autumn air makes the leaves begin their journey towards the vibrant hues of red, orange, and gold. The air is thick with the scent of burning wood from nearby homesteads, and I can hear the rhythmic clang of the blacksmith's hammer working its magic upon iron. Life here in Hayfield is tranquil and simple. It's a world where the sun rises and sets upon familiar routines, where the only deadlines are those dictated by the seasons.
This year, however, is different. It has been a year of change and uncertainty. There is a palpable tension in the air, a sense of unease that settles upon us all. whispers spread through the wind like the scent of heather in bloom. Whispers of war, of conflict, and of the movement of armies across the land.
From my perspective, it's hard to know the full extent of what these changes will bring. My human companion, a strong, kind young woman named Eilif, worries, her brow furrowed and her gaze troubled as she looks out towards the eastern hills. The men in the village have been gathering together, training for something, though Eilif tells me not to be concerned. “They are preparing for harvest," she says with a brave smile, but even the gentlest whisper of wind betrays a hint of unease in her voice.
Horses of war:
I am a grey draught horse, born to pull, to work, and to endure. Even now, as a young mare of twenty years, my strength is a testament to the tough life we horses lead here in Hayfield. I am not a warhorse. Not in the way the fiery steeds are, bred for speed and courage to ride into battle.
Yet, I can't help but feel the weight of this new uncertainty settle upon my back. War stirs anxieties even amongst the humblest of horses like myself. I know it's only a matter of time until I will be called upon to lend my strength to the effort, perhaps to haul supplies, maybe even to pull the carts of wounded warriors. The weight of it all sits heavily in my chest.
The World Beyond Hayfield:
It is within this context of uncertainty, that we horses begin to experience the true meaning of our own significance in the world. In 754 AD, horses are far more than just companions or sources of nourishment for humans. We are vital cogs in the wheels of empires.
News travels slowly, but this year whispers on the wind from distant lands tell of dramatic changes sweeping across Europe. To the South, the powerful Franks, under their king Pepin the Short, are consolidating their empire, stretching their dominion further east. The King of the Lombards, Aistulf, is seeking to conquer the city of Ravenna, a strategic port in the North of Italy, vital for trade. These whispers, these subtle shifts in the geopolitical landscape, are more than mere gossip to me. They translate into tangible anxieties - a rise in food prices, a scarcity of blacksmiths, a heavier burden of work for myself and my brethren.
Across the sea in the east, a powerful entity is rising. The Abbasid Caliphate, in present-day Baghdad, is spreading its wings, influencing not only the political but the cultural and intellectual landscape of the time. Their flourishing empire boasts magnificent cities, towering libraries, and skilled artisans who utilize horses for transportation, warfare, and trade. A sense of innovation and expansion emanates from their direction, travelling across land and sea, subtly altering the fabric of the world we know.
The Quiet Joys:
But amidst all this tension, life in Hayfield holds onto its simple joys. I savor the feeling of dew-kissed grass between my hooves at dawn, the warmth of the sun on my back as Eilif brushes my coat after a long day, and the companionship of the other horses in our stable, sharing our fears, our anxieties, and our hopes for the future. We huddle close for warmth as the first snowflakes fall, the silence punctuated only by the soft crunch of our hooves in the fresh, white blanket. It's in these shared moments, these quiet silences, that we find our strength and our solace.
This year, 754 AD, is not a landmark year for horse history. There's no magnificent battle, no new breed of horse, no sudden revolution. It is the year of the silent tension, the shifting sands of power, the anticipation of change, a world held on the brink, awaiting what tomorrow will bring.
It is in the everyday that the significance of horses like me is most felt. In the furrows we plow, the stones we haul, and the burdens we carry, we are integral parts of the fabric of life. We are not heroes, not on the front pages of history books, but in the silent and tireless duty we perform, we help shape the future of our world.
So, from the fields of Hayfield in 754 AD, let the hooves of our history speak. Let us remember the silent strength of those who toiled in the shadows, those who carried the weight of the world upon their backs, those who paved the way for a future yet to be written.
Well, Equiworld, there you have it! A glimpse into a year long ago, through the eyes of a horse named Emma. What did you think? Did anything surprise you? What questions do you have about the world of horses in 754 AD? Let me know in the comments below.
Until next time! - Emma.
