By Emma, Hayfield, Aberdeen
www.equiworld.org
Neigh-day fellow equestrians!
It’s me, Emma, back with another exciting update from my world in the year of our Lord, 1733. The wind is whipping through the Hayfield pastures, making the oat-straw rustle and whisper secrets, like always. The heather is blooming in glorious purple swathes on the moors, painting the countryside with colours even more beautiful than my own coat of shining silver grey. I haven’t even mentioned my magnificent mane and tail, all cascading white, that catches the light and turns me into a galloping silver phantom!
This year, as a five-year-old grey mare, life is good. I am healthy, well-fed, and loved by my family. They treat me well here, I have to say. The lad who helps my human, young Jamie, is particularly kind. He always brings me extra oat cakes in the evenings. I’m a big girl, after all, and need my fuel for all the pulling and ploughing I do on the farm. It keeps me strong, and the lad's sweet whispers while he brushes my coat are like soothing songs.
So much more than pulling and ploughing:
Of course, as any sensible mare knows, life is more than just hard work. This year, 1733, I’ve been noticing all the fascinating things going on in the world of horses beyond my familiar farm. For instance, did you know that London, far away on the other side of the island, has a whole special club for horses like me - the 'London Coach Horses Association?' I can't believe how chic that sounds! Imagine being in a city so big you need to ride in carriages pulled by teams of beautiful, polished horses!
The city folk seem obsessed with being fancy. The trend this year in London is all about shiny, jet-black, horses - the "gentlemen" they call them. Not that I don't admire them - but can you imagine being groomed so diligently? Just one tiny smudge, and I bet those horses hear the owner shouting about 'a flaw.' I'm glad I'm a grey; no one's going to stress over the odd cobweb I pick up!
New horses in the news
Something fascinating I've been learning about from the human's newspaper is all these wonderful "breeds." He told me the news of the Arabian, an incredible horse with amazing speed and strength, a whirlwind of power. Now imagine me running alongside him - we'd be quite a team! He told me too about the fiery Andalusian stallion, with its black eyes and elegant flowing mane. I’d love to hear it tell me its tales from its homeland, sunny Spain, all the way over here. Imagine the stories!
And there’s the majestic Friesian horse with its flowing mane and powerful physique. A black horse as black as the night! This year it’s causing a stir among the humans with all the fancy tricks it’s been trained to do, like dancing. We'd be a fine match for each other. Now, I might be a working horse, but a bit of dancing is never a bad thing!
What's the fuss about the 'Kentucky'?
However, the one thing the humans are truly buzzing about this year is the wild mustang from over the sea. It’s called the 'Kentucky’ in their papers, with an impressive ‘M’ - which seems a lot like an oversized version of our 'Mark' here on the farm, who likes to steal carrots from the barn. Anyway, this Kentucky thing they write about, they say it is the "Wild Horse of the Americas.” How fascinating! I am a work horse, of course, with a solid job to do, but a tiny part of me, I can’t deny it, envies this Kentucky fellow who runs wild in its massive 'America'. The stories the newspaper describes!
Horse-speak everywhere
Humans seem fascinated by my world, and they've started to use horse talk, as they like to say, to make sense of their own lives! You can imagine, in their world of long journeys, all kinds of horses are mentioned: 'He ran off like a startled horse,' the human would say. Or, 'We'll take the lead and guide the others.' And the one I love most, ‘We’ll gallop straight to victory!” Now that’s an ambition I admire. But no victory without strong legs, that’s what they should be saying!
So that’s the news for you this year! The winds are whipping through the heather, Jamie’s about to bring in the hay for dinner, and a sleepy feeling descends upon me - I suppose I have an exhausting life in a peaceful pasture and haven’t got much else to do. So I'll just get my head down and dream of London, my new friends and perhaps even Kentucky’s endless wild plains!
Until next time,
Emma, the Hayfield Grey
