Hello fellow equines, it's Emma here, your resident historian from the rolling hills of Hayfield, near Aberdeen! Today, I want to take you on a journey back in time to the year 0766 AD, a year when life was simple, our work was essential, and the whispers of the wind carried news of the world beyond our fields.
Let's just say that back in 0766, there weren't many cars, buses, or trains to speak of. People relied on us, the mighty horses, for their transport and livelihood. This year, the crisp Highland air was filled with the sound of hooves clopping on the cobbled streets of Aberdeen, and the soft murmur of farmers as they prepared the fields for spring.
My own life back then was a tapestry of hard work and quiet contentment. My strong, grey frame was perfectly built for hauling carts laden with barley and oats, or pulling plows through the rich, earthy soil. I enjoyed the company of my fellow draughthorses, their gentle snorts and soft whinnies echoing through the morning mist.
It was during these dawn routines that we shared news. We gossiped about the new foals born at the nearby farms, exchanged tales of adventures in the fields, and whispered about the rumors that had travelled through the villages on the back of our human companions. This was a time before widespread communication, when news travelled at the speed of a horse.
One particular memory lingers from this year – a grand gathering at the Royal Palace in Stirling. It was a festive event, filled with bright colours and vibrant laughter. We horses, meticulously groomed and adorned with ribbons and bells, pulled the carriages of nobles and dignitaries. There was a sense of excitement in the air, mingled with the earthy aroma of freshly tilled fields.
The king himself, a kind-hearted man with a twinkle in his eye, watched the proceedings from a balcony, a faint smile playing on his lips. As his gaze swept over the multitude, it alighted briefly upon my chestnut filly, Hazel. She, young and proud, stood proudly, her coat gleaming like polished amber. I knew then, that despite our differences, our common bond was forged in the hard work and unwavering spirit of the horse.
Across the kingdom, other equines were experiencing their own challenges and triumphs. I heard stories of wild horses grazing the grassy plains of the Hebrides, their spirits as untamed as the winds that lashed their coats. Others, I heard, were being trained for battle, their muscles rippling beneath their hides, their eyes alight with the fierce pride of a warrior.
However, it wasn't just about the power of a horse. That year, I learned that true strength resided in kindness, in patience, in the gentle nudge of encouragement that we could give to those around us.
For instance, I was entrusted with transporting a young orphan, barely taller than my knee, to the nearby village. He held onto my mane as we rode, his small, weathered hands tracing the patterns of my silver-grey coat. The ride, although short, was a silent lesson in the bond that we shared with our humans, a bond based on trust and mutual understanding.
In 0766, I was but a young horse, filled with a sense of purpose and pride. The year marked a turning point for my journey, shaping me into the steadfast companion I would become in years to come. I realised that even in the midst of our toil, there was a simple beauty in life. A quiet whisper in the morning mist, the warmth of the sun on our coats, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers - these are the joys we savored as horses, the quiet pleasures that formed the bedrock of our lives.
Perhaps, looking back, it was this simplicity that gave me strength. This innate understanding that our life had meaning, that our role was integral to the fabric of our world. As a draught horse in 0766 AD, I knew my work was valuable, my presence meaningful. And I carried this understanding with me into the next chapters of my equine story, an understanding that transcends the passage of time, even as the world around us continues to change.
Until next time, fellow equines, keep those hooves strong and your spirits bright! Remember, no matter how fast the world moves, we remain its heart - a steadfast reminder of the connection between past and present, and the enduring spirit of the horse.
Emma, Grey Draught Horse, Hayfield, Scotland
www.equiworld.org
PS. Don't forget to check out the latest entries on our blog! We're always adding new insights into the fascinating history of our kind.
