Blog Post #770
Hello, fellow equestrians!
Emma here, your trusty grey draught horse from Hayfield, near Aberdeen, Scotland. Welcome to another entry in my equine chronicles, this time focusing on the year 770 AD. Now, I know what you might be thinking, “Emma, isn’t that a tad early for written history?”
Well, dear friends, that’s where you’d be mistaken! While we horses don't hold pens and ink like humans, we're much better at remembering and sharing our experiences. I just tap my hooves on this mossy log, and my human scribe, Fiona, puts it all down for you to read. Now, settle in and get comfy, for today’s tale takes us back to the 770s...
Springtime in Hayfield
Oh, the springtime! How the sweet green grass tickles my nostrils, how the breeze whispers tales of life renewed, and the sun kisses my coat with warmth! We'd all gathered for our annual spring shearing. That’s right, you hear me, even horses need haircuts! I must say, my grey coat was positively glowing under the careful strokes of my human’s shears. They know exactly how to clip me for maximum coolness in the summer months, and for my coat to look its best. The young foals were quite the sight, with their sleek, unkempt manes, bouncing around with excited neighs as they sampled the first green shoots of the season.
Springtime, however, wasn't just about fresh grass and good grooming. It was also about the exciting rumble of carriage wheels and the sound of clanking harness, a music that was almost as joyous as the sound of the barn swallow’s call. The season was upon us: the season of the Celtic Feast of Beltane!
Imagine, hundreds of horses, strong and sleek like ourselves, pulling brightly decorated carts loaded with people, food, and precious wares. They journeyed from far and wide to the most magnificent clearing in the hills, where the air thrummed with the laughter of young and old. You know, we horses appreciate the music as much as the humans, the booming drums, the lively pipes, and the enchanting melodies carried on the wind. Beltane, my friends, was a celebration of spring, a celebration of new beginnings, a time to let our manes fly, and for the human tribes to forget their worries and embrace the joy of togetherness.
A Day Out in the Scottish Highlands
That spring, my human and I were chosen for a particularly exciting journey. The elders had gathered and decreed that a gift must be sent to the great King Æthelred of Northumbria, a fine woven tapestry, intricately depicting our human’s clan’s story. My hooves were given the honor of carrying the heavy woven masterpiece across the windswept highlands of Scotland.
Our journey took us across the beautiful rugged landscape of our homeland. The wind sang tales through the heather, and the eagles soared overhead with powerful grace. We crossed sparkling rivers and streams, their waters singing ancient songs as we waded through. It was truly a spectacular experience.
Our humans, riding in the sturdy cart I pulled, had nothing but admiration and praise for my strength and steadiness. And oh, did they ever indulge my fondness for sweet, juicy berries growing by the roadside!
Reaching the great royal city, I found myself within the imposing walls of the castle. We presented our gift, a small token of our clan’s gratitude and respect for the Northumbrian king. We received, in turn, rich hospitality – food and drink in abundance for both me and my humans!
It’s a wonder I wasn’t overloaded with the riches I carried on my back back to Hayfield, but the gifts they bestowed on us - a rich silk scarf for my human and a heavy bag of grain for myself! I still have that grain bag, hidden in the hayloft.
From the Warrens to the Highlands
The next months saw the rolling hills around Hayfield echoing with the rhythmic tread of my kind. Humans of all sorts depended on us to bring them together. Whether it was to deliver crops, trade at the market, or simply move from one village to the next, we were there. But the year 770 saw a new use for our talents, one I hadn’t witnessed before.
Imagine my surprise when the chieftain of our clan received news of an unusual, very unexpected visit!
An old, wise man – with hair as white as mine, except his was neatly combed, unlike my long flowing tail – travelled across the vast, wild landscape to visit us! He arrived accompanied by only a single, brave horse, like a gallant knight in shining armour, with its saddle adorned with beautiful intricate designs. He was travelling from the wilds of Lindisfarne, a place with the mystical aura of legends, the heart of the north where seabirds cry in unison against the roaring tide. This wise man, a pilgrim, it seemed, spoke of peace, of learning, of respect. His words were simple yet powerful. They resonated in the hearts of our clan and those who came to hear his story.
The message was this:
*“Look to the stars, look to the earth, look to your horses… These guide us. Together we can reach towards a world where conflict is a memory, not a constant presence. We are stronger together. “ *
We horses felt that too. That year, there was a different hum in the air, a shared understanding, even a touch of peace and calm amongst us horses as we worked and roamed our territories. I, for one, had never felt so interconnected with our equine family.
As we approach the year’s end, I stand proudly on the slopes of Hayfield, my coat glossy from winter’s chill, looking towards the endless horizon. I know that this year 770 was a special one, not just for my clan but for the world of horses as we know it. A world where strength, resilience, and collaboration took root. The year where the wise from the sea’s edge brought a message of peace and hope, a message carried by our kind, echoing throughout our hills and valleys.
As we enter the New Year, I feel an urge to travel to those very shores myself, to touch the wind that has brushed against the face of the wise pilgrim, and perhaps feel that energy coursing through my own hooves, that energy of peace, strength, and the knowledge of what unites us all, human and equine.
So, dear readers, until next time, keep your eyes on the stars, your hooves on the ground, and let us travel together, a shared journey of wonder and harmony.
With heartfelt whinnies, Emma
