Hello, my fellow equines, and welcome back to my humble blog! Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood grey draught mare from Hayfield, a small village near Aberdeen in the land of the Scots. As we journey through time, my hooves are now firmly planted in the year 1319. This year, the air crackles with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.
While I wouldn't claim to understand the machinations of men and their wars, it's clear that a rumble of change is afoot. The king, Robert the Bruce, the man whose courage and tenacity many speak of with admiration, is embroiled in a war to secure his kingdom from the English.
We, the horses, however, don't seem to be as affected by this tension. Our days are filled with the same tasks we always knew: working the land, pulling carts, and being a source of vital transportation. For a working mare like myself, there's a certain contentment in this routine. Each sunrise brings with it a new day, new fields to plough, and the chance to earn my oats and share a playful rub with my fellow steeds.
The fields around Hayfield are fertile, and the farmers here, kind and hard-working, seem to understand our needs. A well-balanced diet of hay and oats is the norm, and I, as a grey, can usually be found pulling the plow with my stablemate, Duncan. Duncan's a stout black fellow, and though he's a bit more stubborn than myself, I've learned to appreciate his unwavering loyalty and quiet strength.
This year, there’s something truly exciting happening for all horse enthusiasts - a grand event has been organized for our brethren. The Scottish National Stallion Show is taking place in Stirling! It is said that horses from across Scotland, young and old, will be gathered together for a celebration of their beauty, strength, and endurance. From what I hear, the prize for the grand champion stallion is not just a glorious silver stirrup, but also a hefty purse of coins – quite the treat for a steed!
Though my days are spent working in the fields, I cannot deny a flutter of excitement at the thought of these stallion gatherings. Duncan, being a stallion himself, doesn’t shy away from the allure of this event. Every day, he seems to talk excitedly of his dreams of winning the silver stirrup. Oh, Duncan, my dear friend, your dreams might just come true.
This grand event also signals the blossoming of an equestrian spirit across Scotland. The need for fast horses for communication and travel, especially during times of unrest, is ever-growing. King Robert, it is whispered, often rides with a band of his loyal knights, relying on their swift horses for reconnaissance and raids.
This leads to an upsurge in demand for swift steeds and horses with good temperament for war. Not all of us are destined for grand competitions or the excitement of battle. We each find our purpose in this life. Some carry the heavy burden of wagons, some are trained to pull a plow, others are the proud steeds of noble lords, while still others stand watch over flocks of sheep. We all have our own stories, each thread woven into the rich tapestry of this time.
The world around me feels in motion, much like the flow of the river that meanders by our village. Even amidst the war-clouds hovering above Scotland, life marches on. The earth produces its bounty, and we, the horses, play our vital part in this intricate dance of existence.
I must confess, the tales from the stallion show keep me busy at night, playing out in my mind as I munch on my hay. Who knows, maybe next year I will witness this spectacular event myself. Until then, my dear readers, keep those hooves strong, your coats glossy, and never forget the strength within your spirit.
Yours in equinity, Emma
