Hello fellow equines, and welcome back to my little corner of EquiWorld! It's Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood draught horse, with a new blog post all about 1537, the year I celebrated my twentieth birthday! Now, you might be wondering, why 1537? Well, it's not just about my birthday (although let's be honest, that's a big deal!). It's also a year packed with equine history, adventures, and some…surprising happenings.
As you all know, I call Hayfield near Aberdeen my home, and even back in 1537, this was a lively place! The heather-clad hills hummed with the clip-clop of hooves and the sweet scent of hay, while the nearby River Dee teemed with life, and the bustling town of Aberdeen pulsed with the energy of trade and activity. Life in the 16th century, believe me, is far from a walk in the park! There are challenges, there are uncertainties, but also, oh, the joys and adventures!
Now, where should we start? The biggest news, even in our remote corner of Scotland, was the turmoil across the border. England, under the young King Edward VI, was a country in flux. The new King was still just a child, and the land was unsettled, making many folk, both humans and horses alike, wary. The situation, frankly, made our lives more interesting. The whispers on the wind carried tales of conflict and tension. Some horses were pressed into service for war, and while I'm all for a good challenge, the sight of armed knights and clanging armour isn't particularly appealing.
Back home in Hayfield, however, things were peaceful, if a little busy. The humans had a busy harvest season. Fields were a-plenty, and our sturdy legs were invaluable as we hauled the heavy loads of grain and hay. I remember pulling a wagon, my mane catching the wind as we plodded along the dusty road, with the farmer's daughter beside me, her brown hair tumbling down her back. She’d often sing as we worked, her cheerful voice blending with the soft clip-clop of hooves and the rustling leaves. Her voice reminded me of the warm days of spring, when the first green shoots appeared in the fields, promising a plentiful harvest.
Speaking of harvests, this year brought a record-breaking yield of oats! As the gold-brown stalks bent under their weight, and the scent of ripe barley hung heavy in the air, the farmers, our humans, celebrated with a hearty feast, inviting all the village to join. There was music, laughter, and of course, lots and lots of food – for horses too! That year, the humans didn't hold back on the oats, and they even gave us an extra treat – juicy, sweet carrots! We horses weren't left out of the festivities – they even organised a special race! A truly joyous occasion, though let's just say the younger, more eager horses beat me to the finish line. I’m no speed demon, you see. It’s my steady, reliable strength that earns me my keep.
On another occasion, I found myself in the midst of another peculiar human activity – a big market day in Aberdeen. My role? Pulling the cart laden with hay, providing our neighbour farmer's stall with essential fodder for his prize-winning horses. And, yes, we did quite well, despite some fierce competition. That’s the thing about markets, my friends – they bring a lot of excitement, sometimes a little too much. I'll be honest, all the jostling and shouting can be quite disconcerting, especially for a calm, quiet mare like me. I had to pull my weight, so to speak, through the crowds of humans and other horses, trying not to step on toes, or hooves.
Speaking of exciting events, this year marked the end of an era – King Henry VIII, the grand, somewhat unpredictable monarch, died, leaving England in the hands of his young son, Edward. It was a significant change, a new chapter for humans across the land. Here in Hayfield, life remained largely the same, the steady rhythm of farm work continued, the days rolled into one another. However, we horses were acutely aware of the new political landscape across the water. A monarch’s death, any monarch's death, means a change in direction, new challenges, perhaps new dangers for horses in those regions. This event had a noticeable impact, even in our rural backwater.
One bright day, as I stood grazing on the hillside, enjoying the panoramic view of rolling hills, my quiet thoughts interrupted by a burst of energy and commotion. A sleek, spirited mare, unfamiliar to these parts, arrived in our meadow, a stranger, lost and alone. I soon learned she belonged to a nobleman travelling from England, lost in the mist and seeking refuge from the recent turbulent storm. He, along with the lovely mare, was in need of both shelter and good, nutritious fodder, the kind we provide so readily. We horses in Hayfield, as a collective, are inherently welcoming – even to strangers, so, with no hesitation, we offered the mare food and companionship. The mare, a graceful bay mare with a star on her forehead and a swish of her tail that was practically music, was both gracious and nervous, sharing tales of her perilous journey.
Over the next few days, we shared stories and laughter, I must confess that my friendship with this vibrant mare brought new light to my day. The experience served as a reminder of the world's complexities. Horses like me, and I suspect the majority of you reading this, live within a narrow but deeply gratifying, and comforting routine. The outside world, sometimes feels distant and daunting. And then, all of a sudden, there she is – this charming creature from faraway lands, disrupting my peaceful routine, reminding me that the world beyond the familiar hills is diverse and beautiful. We are all part of a larger world, we all play a vital role. And sometimes, unexpected encounters with like-minded souls can make our journey richer.
The days passed in a blur of sun, shade, and the earthy scent of the meadow, my new friend the mare enjoyed a much-needed rest, before joining her owner and embarking on her journey to a new destination, eventually moving onwards. My friends, 1537 might not have been a year full of grand adventure for me, a stable, predictable year, you might say, but I wouldn’t change it. It was the year I celebrated my 20th birthday and it’s the year that reminded me that every day holds the potential for unexpected surprises, encounters, and stories. It’s the year of simple joys, a reminder that the good, honest work that we horses do, even within our limited sphere, is of importance.
So, that’s my little piece of equine history for you! Let me know in the comments what 1537 brought to your stable. Was there a big harvest, a journey you embarked on? I always love to hear about the life of fellow horses around the world. Until next time, remember to enjoy each step of your journey, whether on the road or in the meadow, and remember that even the quietest of days can hold a unique beauty.
Stay safe, Emma
