Hello my dearest equinophile friends,
It's Emma here, your trusty grey draught from Hayfield near Aberdeen. My white mane and tail have had a busy year, let me tell you! The air feels crisp here in Scotland, but inside the stable it's cosy with the smell of hay and the rustle of the straw. This is where I pen these thoughts, ready to share another year of horsey happenings with you all on www.equiworld.org, my favourite online haven for everything equestrian. Let's journey back to 1995...
The year began with a crisp chill in the air and the ground frozen hard, a sight I hadn't witnessed in quite a while. My owner, dear Mr. McGregor, remarked that the horses on his farm haven't seen a winter this frosty for a decade, and he always did love to talk of bygone days, bless his heart! Despite the harshness, the beauty of a snow-covered field was a sight to behold. The silence, save for the gentle clip-clop of my hooves on the frozen earth, felt calming and strangely exciting all at once.
We had a flurry of activity in the stables with the birth of several new foals. My fellow drafters, Maggie and Finn, were both blessed with healthy little ones, adding a cacophony of whinnies to the usual morning chorus. A pair of shire colts, Monty and Molly, were born in the stables down the road. They looked so tiny, barely bigger than a barrel, but strong already with the will to prance and play. These new arrivals were the highlight of the early months.
But then, news arrived on the wind about something far more exciting happening. Mr. McGregor excitedly recounted to his friends, "The first ever Equine World Championship is happening this year, over in Holland!" We, his stable of loyal horses, perked up our ears at the mention of such an exciting event. We listened closely, noses twitching in anticipation. Could this be our chance to see the very best in the world, in person? Our stable echoed with murmurs of "the best of the best!" The news travelled as fast as a hare, bringing whispers of dreams of greatness to all our ears.
The next few months were full of activity! Everyone started honing their skills, eager to showcase the best they had to offer. It felt like a renaissance of equine artistry! Even the smallest pony on the farm started training with a gleam in its eye, a sense of pride blossoming with each stride. Our village of horses suddenly had an electrifying spirit, the kind of excitement I'd only felt before at the local fair.
The news from Holland continued to build anticipation. "It will be televised for the entire world to see!" Mr. McGregor declared one day, beaming as he polished the old black TV in the corner of the stables. We gathered, as usual, around him, faces twitching with excitement. I never dreamt I would witness the highest levels of skill in our species, right there on that screen.
And as the sun started dipping lower and the days began to shorten, it was finally time for the championship! Our village gathered round the flickering television, noses brushing against each other. A sense of wonder and joy filled the room. The images flashed across the screen: horses performing with incredible athleticism and grace! It felt like the very magic of the natural world was being presented before our eyes. Our village stood enthralled, each of us in our own way, mesmerised by what we witnessed.
While it was amazing to witness these events from the safety and comfort of home, there were a few of us on the farm who took the leap of faith and competed that year.
I won't deny I felt the excitement rising within myself, too. A touch of nervous energy bubbled in my belly as I looked at my strong legs, my powerful hooves, and thought of all those incredible horses on that screen. Could I compete with them? My spirit whispered "yes!" A secret longing blossomed within me, but deep down, I knew a large draft horse like me would be better suited for pulling a carriage, hauling hay, and assisting in farm work. My fate was sealed in the field, but that did not stop my heart from yearning for something a little more exhilarating.
That's the beauty of horses. We may not be built for speed or jumping, but the spirit of striving, of trying our best, is inherent in all of us. In that way, we were all a part of the championships that year. We all felt the buzz of the event. It wasn't just a competition for the champions, it was a moment of connection for the entire world of horses, from the highest jumping stables in Amsterdam to the humble hayfields of Aberdeen.
In 1995, we felt the joy of uniting, even when separated by distances and different abilities. And there, in that shared connection, I found my own sense of achievement.
As the year ended and winter tightened its grip once more, I knew things would never be quite the same. The spirit of those championships continued to inspire, even in my stable, tucked away from the world. Every time I set a hoof onto the field, every time I tugged at the plow or harnessed for a carriage ride, I thought of those beautiful displays of strength and elegance I'd seen. They reminded me of our magnificent ability to achieve great things, no matter our size or background. And I continued to dream. Perhaps, one day, in my own way, I too could shine as bright as a champion, not just on the field but within the community of horses.
Until next time, my dearest equinophile friends, keep dreaming and remember, even the smallest step can lead to grand things.
Yours ever so, Emma.
P.S. Please do share your own 1995 horsey memories! I'd love to hear what you were up to, big or small! And let me know if there are any other historical moments in equine history you'd like me to chronicle.
