By Emma, Grey Draught Mare from Hayfield, Near Aberdeen
Greetings, fellow equines! It's Emma here, and it feels wonderful to be back with you all on EquiWorld. My, what a whirlwind of a year 1682 has been! I thought it would be a good idea to jot down my thoughts and observations on the year gone by, for posterity.
As a Grey Draught mare with a mane and tail as white as snow, I've spent a lot of this year pulling heavy carts and plows across the rolling hills of Aberdeenshire. We are, as the saying goes, "the backbone of the countryside." Farmers rely on our strength and stamina to cultivate the fields and transport their goods, and there is nothing I find more satisfying than feeling the earth give way beneath my hooves and the tug of the reins as I pull with all my might.
However, life for a draught horse isn't all work and no play. When I'm not out on the farm, you can find me frolicking in the meadow with my friends, a lively bunch of ponies, who love to race each other down the slopes of the hills. There's nothing quite like the thrill of the wind in your mane as you thunder through the countryside, your hooves pounding the earth in rhythmic succession.
I've heard whispers from the travelling merchants and coachmen that the year 1682 marked a significant turning point in history, not just in our local Scottish community, but far beyond. News has travelled to Hayfield about a great plague sweeping through Europe. Sadly, even animals aren't immune to this terrible illness, so we have been instructed to avoid interaction with those coming from afar, especially ships and travelers from plague-ridden regions.
Life in the 1680s: Beyond the Fields
But my life isn't entirely limited to the rural farm life. I have had the opportunity to experience a taste of what goes on beyond the fields and fences. My master, a kind man with eyes that twinkled like the stars in a clear night sky, is also the local miller. I've often hauled sacks of grain to the nearby town, the quaint smells of spices and fresh bread tickling my nostrils. I often catch snippets of conversation on the busy streets, tales of ships venturing across oceans, distant battles, and even strange discoveries from faraway lands.
Just a few weeks ago, a young stable boy excitedly described something called a "carriage" - a luxurious coach with cushioned seats, driven by horses that wore fancy harness. These carriages, they say, are used to ferry rich nobles and even royalty around! I cannot even begin to imagine such extravagant luxury! It is a reminder, though, of how horses are vital, not just for simple transport, but for high society as well.
The King's Horses:
The most exciting news reaching us this year involved King Charles II. He recently rode his beautiful grey stallion, 'Thunder,' to Windsor Castle. The journey, they say, was fraught with hardship, with a heavy storm causing landslides and fallen trees, hindering his progress. But, true to their mettle, horses braved the elements, ensuring the king's safe journey. That's the spirit of the equine!
However, not everyone seems to be celebrating the King. My master's daughter, who studies history at the university in Edinburgh, shared stories of unrest across the kingdom, of religious differences that stir passions and discontent among the people. This unsettling news made me realise how interconnected we all are - even here, nestled in the rolling hills of Scotland, events elsewhere have far-reaching consequences.
The Future:
As I close this blog, the air grows crisp with the scent of approaching autumn, the leaves starting to shimmer in golden hues. It's a time of reflection, as much for the farmers tending their fields as for the horses that till the soil and pull the carts. We work hard, tirelessly, as nature does its course, bringing the cycle of life to a close and preparing for the quietude of winter.
I’m excited to see what new year 1683 will bring, and I look forward to sharing it with you, dear readers. Do take care and continue to be inspired by the unwavering strength, spirit, and devotion of the equine kind. And until next time, may your oats be plentiful and your stables always warm.
Yours in hay and oats, Emma.
