Posted: 23rd July, 2023
Hello everyone, and welcome back to EquiWorld! I'm Emma, a proud grey draught mare with a white mane and tail, and I'm delighted to share another year in my life with you. It's been quite a year, filled with both hard work and happy times, just like any horse's life! I call the beautiful rolling hills of Hayfield near Aberdeen my home, and you wouldn't believe the stories I have to tell about the past twelve months...
The year began in a familiar way - the air still sharp and cold with the sting of winter. As a draught horse, I spend most of my days pulling the heavy plough through the fields, preparing the earth for planting. The men on the farm are strong and kind, but they expect a lot of us horses. I'm lucky to have my friends, Tilly and Ben, by my side; they make the hard work bearable. We snort and huff together, sharing whispered stories of the delicious carrots we dream of eating.
It's around this time that the talk of a new king fills the air, whispered on the wind and echoing through the stable doors. They say King Charles II has passed, and his brother, James, is now on the throne. I can't quite understand all the human drama, but the change doesn't seem to affect our life here at Hayfield. We continue with our chores, our days punctuated by the familiar rhythms of the farm.
Spring brings with it a flurry of new beginnings. The fields transform into emerald blankets, the air sweet with the scent of blooming wildflowers. The men have been busy mending fences and tending to their flocks. We horses are busy hauling the cart, ferrying produce and supplies to and from the nearest village. It's tiring work, but I love feeling the breeze in my mane, the sun warming my coat, and the countryside unfurling before me.
The sound of galloping hooves echoes through the valley one evening. We stop in our tracks, curious. Two young lads, each astride a spirited steed, pass us by. The riders' faces are bright with laughter, and their horses are prancing and bucking with excitement. This sparks a conversation among us horses. Tilly asks, “Have you heard about these 'racecourses' humans are building?” I shake my head. Ben snorts, "These races sound like human fun. A bit silly, really. Us proper working horses have better things to do!”
While I appreciate Ben's sense of pride in our work, something in me stirs. Maybe there's a little bit of racing spirit within even a steady draught mare like me. I confess, the idea of speed and the feeling of wind through my mane excites me. The vision of galloping alongside my friends on an open plain sparks a joyous fire in my heart.
As the days lengthen and summer arrives, I get a rare glimpse into this human world of speed. My master sends me on a journey, pulling a wagon of hay to the bustling town of Aberdeen. We arrive at a vast open space, filled with excitement and colour. The town folk, decked out in their finest clothes, gather around a wide field. Men on horseback are urging their animals forward, racing around a marked course. My jaw drops at the sight of these swift creatures, so different from the sturdy horses I know. The crowds roar, their cheers carried by the wind, and the air thrum with excitement. The world feels suddenly alive, and I can’t help but feel a pang of longing for a world beyond the farm, a world of racing and adventure.
I learn later that these races are a favourite pastime of the people. They bet and gamble on the horses, the winners crowned heroes of the day. I try to understand, but the human world is filled with curious habits! As I return home with my master, my thoughts keep returning to those racing steeds, to the adrenaline rush I imagined them experiencing.
The weeks following this visit are filled with the usual chores of summer – pulling hay and transporting grain to the mill, tending to the animals. But I can't shake off the racing fever. My dreams are now filled with visions of flying hooves and a rush of freedom.
And then, a chance conversation changes everything. The farm hand tells us of a travelling showman who plans to set up camp at the nearby village. He speaks of 'wonders' and 'marvels', and a strange feeling whispers in my belly. This is it. I need to know more about this travelling world of wonder.
With a quickening heart, I whisper to Tilly and Ben. They're initially reluctant - "Showmen?" Ben snorts, "It's likely to be full of tricksters and charlatans!" Tilly chimes in, "Don't you remember those gypsy lads with their horses? They're not to be trusted!" But something compels me forward. There's an instinct that urges me towards something new.
I persuade my friends to join me on a night venture to the village, hoping for a glimpse into the strange and unknown world. It’s risky, as we’re not allowed off the farm at night, but the anticipation bubbling in me outweighs any fear. Under the cover of darkness, with my heart thundering like a drum, we tiptoe our way to the village.
The sight that greets us takes our breath away. The showman’s tents glow in the moonlight, adorned with flashing colours. A curious mixture of smells – hay, sweat, wood smoke – wafts towards us. A bustling, excited crowd surrounds the area.
And then I see it – a dazzling, graceful black stallion stands proudly within the main tent. He's tall, his coat shiny, his mane flowing like liquid silk. The crowd is awed by his magnificence, a mixture of fear and admiration in their faces. We’re mesmerized, a spell held upon us.
As we watch, the showman mounts the magnificent stallion, his voice commanding the hushed audience. The animal dances and bows, seemingly moving without a trace of fear. Then the showman commands the stallion to jump through hoops of fire, an action so bold that the audience gasps in amazement.
As we watch, a desire burns in my heart – to feel that kind of freedom, that powerful energy flowing through me. I know what I need to do. The life of a farm horse isn’t bad, but it doesn’t fill my spirit with joy, like the freedom I’ve witnessed. I want to dance through hoops of fire! I want to experience the adrenaline that thrummed through those horses racing in the city. I want to gallop under the stars!
But I’m a working horse, a draught mare, and my place is at the farm. Or is it?
This feeling, this sense of longing, has settled deep in my heart. I need to discuss it with my friends. There’s so much to consider. Can I really leave the safety and security of Hayfield? Will my masters let me go? The questions swirl in my mind as we retreat back to the safety of the farm, carrying our secrets with us.
And so, the year ends. It has been a year of familiar routines, but it's also been a year of discovery. I have glimpsed a world beyond my immediate experience, and it’s left me longing for something more, something different. I'm not yet sure what the future holds, but the seed of a dream has been planted, and it's already sprouting. Stay tuned, dear friends, as I continue to chronicle my journey!
