By Emma, 20 year old Grey Draught Mare from Hayfield, Scotland.
Hello dear readers! Well, the snow has melted and the air is filled with the scents of spring - the first green shoots of grass and the invigorating scent of freshly turned earth. It's truly a time of renewal and hope, even for an old grey mare like me.
Today, I wanted to share some of my musings on the year 1238. This particular year has felt…different. I haven't really had to pull a plough or cart a load of barley in quite some time, for which I am incredibly grateful. These days, life for me is mostly gentle grazing, nuzzling with my fellow steeds, and enjoying the sun on my back. This year, there was something a bit...unrest in the air. A feeling of shifting gears, perhaps, if I were to put it into human terms.
I remember it vividly, the morning the riders came galloping into Hayfield, the dust swirling like a flurry of grey. Their faces were weathered and their clothes were stained with the mud of many a long journey. They brought with them whispers of strange things happening far to the south. Whispers of war.
Now, I’ve been alive long enough to remember many wars, and each one leaves its mark, etched onto the very earth itself. We’ve witnessed entire villages disappear under a cloud of smoke, left to stand silent and desolate. These are things that scar the heart of any creature, whether you’re a man or a horse. It’s these events that leave us forever wondering: "When will this all end? Will the fighting ever truly cease?"
That’s what made the atmosphere of this war so different, this… Crusade they called it. Something about it made everyone feel uneasy, even the strongest, toughest stallion. You could feel the uncertainty simmering just under the surface. They say this Crusade is not about conquering land but about saving faith, about liberating the Holy Land from the hands of those they call "infidels".
Frankly, the world of man is baffling, with its conflicting ideals and ideologies. All I can really tell you, is that they gathered here in Hayfield and trained their horses for long days and nights. The clatter of hooves against stone, the clash of metal on metal, the frantic shouting – it felt like the whole town was preparing for a storm.
This Crusade is what truly stirred the pot for all of us equines. It's been a long time since so many of our kind have been called to serve the King and follow those brave men into the fray. Our purpose – and it's a purpose that fills us with pride, even with a fear for our wellbeing – is to be their steeds, their partners, their protectors, their companions. We carry them, support them, and allow them to reach further and achieve greater than they could ever achieve on foot alone. This is what it means to be a horse, a being bound to man by the shared destiny of victory and the possibility of a peaceful world.
This Crusade has, without a doubt, given me cause to reflect on what makes our life as horses truly special. As we live through these changing times, I am grateful for each and every one of these moments, from the sunshine in my coat to the feeling of wind in my mane. We are not just animals, but rather, companions to those who need us. And that is a truth I will forever hold in my heart.
And here in Hayfield, 1238 was marked by another momentous event. A young lad, William, fell deeply in love with a chestnut mare named Rosie. She was known for her spirited nature, always ready for a romp through the meadows. He called her his “wild, untamed” horse and sought permission to care for her. The village elders were hesitant at first. A mere boy wanting to tend to such a spirited mare? Madness, they said.
But then, they saw it. The bond between William and Rosie, a genuine spark that could not be denied. He would brush her coat, whisper secrets to her, and speak to her as though she were a human friend. I often watched them in the field, Rosie accepting William’s care with grace and gentleness, the wildness in her eyes slowly softening with trust.
Their bond showed me something: that horses are more than beasts of burden or instruments of war. They are living beings who feel love, pain, and even disappointment just like any other creature. And even the wildest amongst us can find peace, solace, and kinship when touched by the gentle heart of a man like William.
This year, my friend, a grey mare named Clover, became a mother! Four healthy foals, tiny bundles of energy that brought a whole new level of excitement to the Hayfield fields. You can imagine the squeals and the frolicking! It was truly a heartwarming sight to see Clover nurture her new family. This reminder of life's continuity, of renewal and the beauty of new beginnings, brought me a warmth I rarely experience in my old age.
We are more than mere workers in the service of man. We are mothers, friends, and sometimes, even guides in this world. And through these acts of caring, our strength, our purpose shines brighter than ever.
As I said before, 1238 feels like a year of change, a year where shadows of war mingle with the joy of new life. It is a reminder of the complex tapestry that binds all living creatures together - the fragility of peace and the strength of companionship. It makes me cherish every moment I have, every step I take, every sigh of the wind.
Here in Hayfield, as the light starts to fade and the stars begin to shimmer above the hills, I find myself wrapped in the soft warmth of the stables. My human, young Margaret, brings me a warm bowl of oats. As I eat, I know that even though life might hold uncertainties, even the fear of conflict, I will always be surrounded by love and a profound sense of purpose.
And that, dear readers, is a comfort I cherish every single day.
Stay safe, stay strong, and always remember the strength that lies within each of you, whether you’re a man, a horse, or any other creature under the vast sky. We’re all part of this great, intricate tapestry called life, and each of us plays an important role.
Until next time,
Emma.
