History of Horses in the year 1044

Greetings, my fellow equines and horse-lovers! It's Emma here, your friendly grey mare from the lovely pastures of Hayfield, near Aberdeen. The crisp autumn air is settling in, and the golden leaves are beginning to drift down, painting the world in shades of gold and brown. It's the time of year that fills me with a sense of peace, a sense of quiet contemplation... which makes it perfect for another post on my horse history blog!

This week, we'll be diving into the year 1044, an exciting year in horse history! It may not seem like much from here, tucked away in the quiet countryside, but the world was buzzing with horse-related happenings! Let's get started.

My days are fairly typical for a sturdy draught horse like myself. Mornings begin with the welcome sounds of the stable door opening and the delicious scent of fresh oats filling the air. We share a stable with three other mares, Daisy, Belle, and Blossom, all lovely companions, though we often argue over who gets the best spot by the hayrack. It's a competition we can't seem to resist!

Our days are mostly filled with helping out on the farm. We pull the plough for Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, their strong sons, Angus and Fraser, following behind. They work tirelessly, with a quiet dignity that I find inspiring. They even trust us to work the fields in the softer mud after a rain, knowing we have the sure footing to pull through it.

We are, after all, the backbone of this farm. And we love it! It’s honest work, tiring work, but there is no greater reward than seeing the seeds sprout into lush crops, or watching the hay bales stacked high in the barn, ready to keep us warm through the winter.

I especially enjoy the evenings when we're allowed to graze in the vast pasture under the setting sun. My white mane and tail seem to glow with the warm hues of the fading light, a beauty I take pride in. There’s nothing like the fresh breeze and the scent of wildflowers to soothe a working horse's heart!

It’s often at times like these, strolling through the meadows or chewing the sweet grass at dusk, that I think about the wider world and its horses. And while I may be tucked away here in Scotland, I still find myself drawn into the vibrant world of horse stories and news.

It's been a year of great activity. We hear snippets of tales about war horses in distant lands - far to the south, the Vikings are exploring across the seas, some on their sturdy horses, some by their incredible longships. We hear the horses are proving their worth in new landscapes!

Then there's the story of a young, courageous woman who became Queen Matilda of France! The legend says she travelled on horseback, with great strength and resolve, during a period of change in French history. She, too, understood the value of these amazing creatures.

Back home, here in Scotland, we haven't felt the need for much fighting for some time. I'm relieved for it; we've lost our beloved Prince Duncan this year. My dear friend, the stable hand's pony, Calypso, once carried his little brother, Malcolm, who, bless his young heart, told the most amusing stories. He is a strong boy, full of enthusiasm, even though his future holds some uncertainty. It's been quiet, peaceful even, but some whispers reach Hayfield about trouble brewing. King Edward, the English King, is preparing for some sort of conflict. There's worry, for sure. I just hope we can remain safe here in our peaceful meadow.

Of course, a chat about the year 1044 isn't complete without a little something about our equine cousins. Breeding horses, particularly in the highlands and islands, continues to be a constant effort, with a strong emphasis on stamina and strength for a working horse. We've even had a few visiting horses from further south this year, beautiful grey horses who reminded me a bit of myself.

We, the draugh horses of Scotland, are built for this type of life, but these more elegant southern horses, with their sleek coats and nimble steps, carry a beauty and spirit that's very appealing.

I look forward to welcoming more travelers and their horses to Hayfield one day. You know, after the troubles die down. Maybe then I can give them the grand tour of the rolling green hills and whispering forests of this special part of Scotland!

Until then, it's back to pulling plows and tending the land, but I can't help dreaming of adventures and journeys on horseback, discovering all that our beautiful world has to offer. After all, for me, being a horse means being part of history, big and small, both here in Hayfield and far, far beyond.

See you next week with a fresh post on my history blog.

Yours, Emma, the Grey Draught Mare.

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