Greetings, dear fellow equines!
Emma here, a grey draught mare from Hayfield, just outside Aberdeen. It's a beautiful day here, crisp autumn air, a touch of frost on the grass, and the scent of bonfires lingering in the air. You know what they say about autumn, it's the time for getting cozy, for warm stables and a good, hearty feed. But it's also a time for reflecting on the year past, and that's why I wanted to share some of my thoughts and observations about the world of horses in 1855.
A Busy Year
It’s been a busy year here in Hayfield, I can tell you! As usual, much of my time was spent pulling the plough, a satisfyingly methodical task that sees the land ready for the next season's crops. I've always loved the scent of turned earth, the crunch of my hooves on freshly ploughed soil, and the feel of the breeze as I work, sun warming my back. But, even a trusty draught mare like myself enjoys a break. I have to confess, the highlight of this year was when we were hired out for the harvest. The sights and sounds of the harvest are always breathtaking: the towering stacks of grain, the bustling farmers, and the constant hum of activity. It was exhilarating to be part of the effort, the strong team pulling the carts laden with golden grain. I swear I felt a pang of pride when those sacks were finally stowed safely away in the barns.
A Glimpse of the World
But my duties went beyond the fields. This year, I even got to experience a day in the bustling town of Aberdeen! Imagine, my hooves on cobblestones, the sights and sounds of the market square, the scent of fresh bread and the bustling crowds. I helped pull a dray cart loaded with crates of fish, their fresh scent reminding me of the vast sea that edged the town. Though the noise and congestion were a little overwhelming, it was a wonderful glimpse into a world beyond the familiar green of the fields.
Riding High
Of course, it wouldn’t be a year in the life of a horse without some exciting riding stories! My younger sister, Lily, who’s a spirited chestnut, started learning to ride this year. It’s delightful watching her, she’s a natural, balancing on her little saddle with a confidence that's charming. The local lad, Jamie, who's known as ‘The Stablehand’ because he spends most of his time with us, was the one teaching her. He’s patient and gentle, a real blessing to any horse in need of a good pat on the neck. I overheard whispers about a 'riding school' that was opening up in town. A place where humans learn how to ride and bond with their steeds - isn’t that wonderful? Makes me feel proud to be a horse in these times.
Across the Seas and Beyond
Though the world beyond our village feels faraway, news from other corners of the world still reaches us, often through travellers or merchants who frequent our village. One particular conversation I overheard in the village tavern involved a man speaking of ‘America.’ He spoke of a land brimming with opportunity, vast open plains, and a thriving equestrian scene. His words painted vivid pictures of herds of wild horses roaming free, of vast ranchlands, and of cowboys using horses to herd cattle. It's a land that truly excites the adventurous spirit in every horse!
This brings me to a point I wanted to address, a topic that’s been circulating amongst my horse friends: The Industrial Revolution. While I see its influence in the towns, hear its clang of machinery in the distance, and sense the ever-growing number of factories replacing open fields, I’m heartened by how our kind remains an essential part of it. In many ways, this 'steam-driven’ age has led to more demand for our work, for horses remain essential for moving goods and transporting people, both near and far. We're even involved in this 'coal’ industry that’s making such waves - hauling coal from mines, transporting it for use in homes and factories, even for powering those steam engines themselves. The work is arduous, but our value is unquestioned, and that makes me proud.
A Tale of Three Mares
On a less world-altering note, allow me to share some local news. Two mares, both known for their gentle nature, just had their foals! Flora, the beautiful brown mare from the village down the lane, gave birth to a lively, chestnut colt she's named Rufus. He’s got a real spring in his step, you can tell he’s going to be quite a character! And then, old Agatha, known to be a little cranky but loving to a fault, welcomed a filly she’s named Bess. It's funny to see the way Bess has Agatha wrapped around her hoof - all that gruffness just melts away when it comes to that tiny filly.
Now, back to the matters close to our heart, I just can't end this post without a little anecdote about the village competition, the 'Hayfield Pulling Challenge'. Imagine, ten pairs of draught horses straining to pull a loaded cart across the village green! I was so proud to be part of my team, we pulled our heart out! Though we were a little outmatched by that gigantic Clydesdale mare, it was still a brilliant display of strength and teamwork. And the local folk always give us a good feed afterwards, which, I can tell you, is very welcome.
Forging Ahead
Looking back over this year, I can’t help but be filled with a sense of gratitude. 1855 was a year of progress and growth for the world of horses. It was a year that brought me new experiences, challenged me in exciting ways, and left me feeling like we horses, are truly appreciated and essential. The future may bring challenges, but my heart, just like the strong hooves I walk on, is set on embracing it with courage, grace, and a good deal of love for my fellow equines!
Till next time, my friends!
-Emma, the Grey Draught Mare of Hayfield.
