Neigh-sayers beware! It’s Emma here, your favourite grey draught mare from Hayfield, near Aberdeen. Today, I'm galloping into the history books to share all the exciting happenings in the world of horses back in 1790.
1790! That was a time when life was a little simpler. We horses were truly the heart and soul of the community, particularly here in the Scottish Highlands. We worked tirelessly in the fields, helping farmers harvest crops and transport goods, always with a strength and grace that put the fanciest thoroughbreds to shame.
Of course, the world was full of exciting happenings. There were grand parades with riders in velvet coats, coaches filled with ladies in frilly dresses, and even the odd circus performer. But it’s the day-to-day life that warms my heart, the unspoken connection between a horse and their human companion, the feeling of shared effort that made the work feel so worthwhile.
Life in Hayfield
Now, I can’t say I ever thought I’d end up in the fields of Hayfield. You see, my sire, a handsome chestnut with a fiery spirit, was a well-respected member of the royal stables. They say my mother was even more distinguished – a famous mare from a celebrated lineage. But, alas, life had different plans for me.
You see, in 1790, farmers were just beginning to embrace a new breed of horse. The Clydesdales! Now, those big fellas are majestic to be sure. They have a powerful build and gentle disposition, perfect for heavy loads and long journeys. But me, well, I'm a little smaller, a little more slender. But I’ve always said there's beauty in variety. I thrive in my work with a lighter touch, bringing my own unique strengths to the team.
I have the best human companion a horse could ask for – Mr. MacKenzie. He's a kind man, with hands as soft as a lambskin blanket. I always enjoy a good scratch on my mane, followed by a bit of sweet barley. You know, he has this way of looking into my eyes, like he can read my thoughts, and understands my unspoken anxieties or when I’m ready for a midday nap in the shade. We have a special connection, built on respect and understanding.
A Horse’s Daily Grind
Each day is an adventure. We rise with the dawn, greeting the sun with a satisfying whinny, and spend our days pulling the plow, carting grain, and transporting hay. The crisp Highland air blows through our coats, while the gentle hum of bees fills the meadows. It’s an honest life, rewarding, and filled with a sense of purpose that makes me proud to be a part of it.
Now, you can’t tell me the feeling of soft grass beneath my hooves isn't a pleasure. And I love watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky with colours I never get tired of seeing. The days might be long, but the rewards are even greater. My hooves help cultivate life. The grains and produce that nourish my human family – my food is, after all, the by-product of my labour!
There are challenges, of course. Some days the weather can be unforgiving, with chilling winds that pierce through the thickest fleece. But those moments are followed by the warmth of a hay bale by the fire, the contented silence of the stables. I feel a certain gratitude for the cosy refuge it provides after a long day in the field.
Beyond the Farms
But life in 1790 wasn't just about hard work. Every now and then, we’d find ourselves stepping away from the familiar paths and heading into the village. I always loved these outings, as the world suddenly became more lively.
Imagine a scene where the cobblestone streets bustle with people. They were all smiles, chattering excitedly about their daily life, sometimes even stopping to pat me on the head. They weren't afraid to touch us, the horses, and seemed to hold a genuine appreciation for what we provided.
Occasionally, Mr. MacKenzie and I would even accompany his wife to the market in Aberdeen. There, amidst the lively chatter, we’d see rows of fruits and vegetables that promised flavourful feasts. We also encountered fellow equines of different breeds, each sporting a different kind of attire, from heavy-duty workhorses like me to the elegant steeds, ready for riding. We all shared an unspoken understanding, a connection forged through a life that revolved around service and care for others.
The Magic of Togetherness
You know, we might be creatures of different sizes and temperaments, but at our core, all horses yearn for the same things - a good roll in the grass, a gentle touch from a loving human, a belly full of good oats. I often stand in the field, listening to the wind whistling through the reeds, feeling a quiet peace wash over me. It is in these moments I am reminded of how much we, the horses, are a part of the tapestry of life, helping make the world a little bit better, one step, one journey, one harvest at a time.
I often find myself reflecting upon what my human friend, the local miller's son, once told me. He said, “It's not the size of the horse that matters, but the size of its heart." I have to agree. Though I might not be a Clydesdale, I am a creature of kindness, strength, and unwavering devotion, always willing to lend a helping hoof to anyone in need.
As the stars twinkle above us at night, I often dream of the day when all horses, whether magnificent steeds or sturdy workhorses, will be celebrated for their grace and resilience. I can only imagine the harmony, the sense of shared purpose, when everyone understands that we are more than just our appearances or our usefulness. We are, each and every one of us, precious pieces of this wondrous world.
That’s it for this week’s blog, friends! But don’t worry, there's much more to tell. Join me next time as I embark on another journey through history.
Stay tuned, fellow equines!
Love,
Emma, Hayfield, Scotland
