Hello there, fellow horse lovers! It’s Emma here, your favourite grey mare from Hayfield, just outside Aberdeen, Scotland. Today, I’m going to take you back in time to 990 AD, a year that still feels fresh in my memory, even if I’ve lived through more than a few winters since then.
As you all know, life for a draught horse like me in the year 990 wasn't about frivolous things like ribbons and show jumping. No, my life was about hard work, loyalty, and a deep connection with the land and the people I served.
Spring bloomed into a joyous chorus of green and the sun stretched its warmth across the Scottish highlands. The farm buzzed with the energy of life. It was then I first felt the burgeoning strength in my legs, a power I couldn't wait to share with the world. It was the year I truly stepped into adulthood, joining the other horses in pulling the heavy wooden ploughs. This work was gruelling, yet it filled me with pride.
My favourite time was harvest. As the air filled with the scent of barley, I'd eagerly await the day we hauled the laden carts from the fields to the granary. My strong, grey muscles flexed and stretched as we pulled, the collective effort a soothing harmony of sound and movement. There was a symphony of nature in it – the groan of the wheels, the crunch of gravel beneath our hooves, and the murmur of laughter from the farmhands who sang alongside our work.
My favourite part, though, wasn't the physical exertion; it was the fellowship. The other horses and I – we shared a silent language, an understanding born from years of companionship and hardship. We learned to trust each other implicitly, relying on instinct and unspoken communication to move as one. There was nothing more fulfilling than sharing a heavy burden with my companions.
Now, I’m going to tell you about a new journey that began for me this year. My family’s clan, the MacDougalls, had taken on the responsibility of hauling goods to a place called ‘Inverness’, where there was a market with much trading and commerce. The trip, as I later learned, was a significant distance for a horse like me. And what do you think I learned during that journey? Well, let me tell you! The journey itself was more exhilarating than hauling in the fields. The change in scenery! The fresh air, blowing in from the North Sea! And the exciting sights of the world that unfolded like a panorama outside my small village.
I saw bustling towns and small villages, all built upon the very earth I felt under my hooves. There were rolling green meadows, towering mountains, and wild rivers, their rush a soothing background rhythm to our journey. Along the road, I saw families and groups of people heading towards markets, just like us.
I must say, it took a toll on my hooves! Every now and then, my human, Hamish, would stop, tending to our hooves with warm water, herbs, and gentle soothing. Hamish knew that the care he gave us was more than a mere ritual. He knew it was the love and respect we deserved for our efforts. I could almost hear his thoughts as he moved from one hoof to the other: “You are strong, you are resilient, you are an integral part of our family.” He would sometimes give us bits of barley or a treat of apples that would make our spirits soar. We'd all be gathered together at these moments, feeling a profound connection to one another, with Hamish standing there, looking out with a sense of quiet pride at the family of horses he nurtured and cared for.
As we neared the markets, the air became filled with a chaotic hum. The market bustled with people from all walks of life, their faces alight with excitement as they traded goods. The air smelled of spices, of roasted meats, of rich textiles, and of a thousand other fascinating smells.
It was at this market that I understood the true purpose of our arduous journey. I learned about the power of horses. We, the steeds of the north, were a vital link in the chain of trade, transporting goods and materials from one place to another. We connected people, brought different cultures together, and helped them flourish. It was humbling, but I knew this wasn't about our personal satisfaction but about serving a larger purpose. Our work ensured that people could sustain themselves, sharing their hard-won crops and knowledge across the land.
Our journey was marked by both wonder and peril. We faced fierce winds and torrential downpours, mud that clung to our legs, and rocky trails that challenged our strength. I saw, with my own eyes, the majestic snow-capped peaks that seemed to reach the very sky. At times, I would feel exhaustion creep into my bones, and my hooves would ache with the burden of the journey. Yet, it was nothing I couldn't endure. After all, what did we horses have, other than strength and stamina to share with the world?
After weeks on the road, we reached Inverness, and it felt as if a breath of relief swept across the landscape. We had made it! Our muscles, which had stretched and strained for days, finally eased. We were all relieved, for we had weathered every storm, every mountain pass, and every obstacle that stood between us and this new world.
It was time to head back to our stables and farm. As we turned back towards Hayfield, my heart felt content. I’d learned something profound in the year 990: life isn’t about individual triumph, but about collective purpose. We, the horses of Scotland, are essential to this intricate dance of life – carrying burdens, providing strength, and contributing to the shared tapestry of existence. We were, after all, much more than just horses.
So there you have it, dear EquiWorld readers. This is my story, my personal view of life in the year 990 AD. And I must say, despite the hardships, I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything. In our own humble way, we helped build the foundations of what Scotland is today. And so I stand tall, ready for what lies ahead. My hooves, once weary, are strong and sure. My grey coat shines with the silver of wisdom and experience. And in my heart, I carry the echo of every mountain path, every stream crossing, every challenge conquered.
Until next time, dear friends. Remember, each of us, human and equine, is part of a beautiful dance of life. Let us always be grateful for our unique contribution, no matter how big or small, to the grand tapestry of existence.
