Hello fellow equines, it's Emma here! A beautiful day here in Hayfield near Aberdeen, Scotland, and a lovely time to take a break from pulling the plough to share some of my experiences as a horse living in this time, the year 0218! As a grey draught mare with a flowing white mane and tail, I have always felt blessed to have a gentle nature and a strong physique, allowing me to be a useful part of the community.
Today I thought it would be lovely to share with you all a glimpse into life in the world of horses during 0218 AD. We equines still remain at the heart of almost everything.
The air is crisp this morning, and I can already smell the delicious scent of oats from the nearby stable. The morning sun is shining bright, giving my coat a lovely sheen.
The farmers have already started their work, but the call of duty doesn’t beckon for me just yet. I stand here, my long white tail swishing as I idly watch a little girl from the village, Eilidh, playfully lead her pony, Willow, past my paddock. They both seem so carefree, full of joyful energy, which reminds me of when I was a young filly, free to run and explore the vast fields of Hayfield.
Now, of course, I am responsible, my work day beginning with hauling the cart full of fresh-baked bread to the market in nearby Aberdeen. You know, a grey draught mare's life can be demanding.
It's important to say that 0218 has been a good year for us in Hayfield. The spring was particularly kind, and the land has produced plentiful harvests of barley, oats, and turnips. We had an abundance of food, ensuring a good amount for everyone - the village and us, the horses who do the important work!
A farmer I know, Angus, had his own stallion this year, who brought forth a beautiful new foal, a lovely filly. I watched the proud mother as she taught her daughter to stand, graze, and most importantly, find her feet when learning to run! The young one even had a touch of my white in her tail – truly a delightful sight!
Angus, being a good neighbour, allowed the village children to come close and observe. And oh, were they captivated! I know the feeling, a newborn foal’s pure joy is infectious.
Beyond the rolling fields of Hayfield, life remains much the same for our brethren. In places like Rome, which I only know about through stories, horses are still vital in racing, pulling chariots for nobles, and carrying warriors in times of conflict. They’re used for transport and agriculture, with tales coming to our land of glorious steeds carrying noble warriors on important journeys.
Across the great rivers and seas, even those who live in distant lands far beyond what any of us here have ever seen or dreamt of, continue to use horses as integral parts of their lives. Even in places where the weather is colder than the breath of a frost-covered mountain, hardy horses work alongside their human companions.
In fact, one day, while walking down the cobbled road to Aberdeen, a blacksmith, Allan, recounted his encounter with a traveler. This traveler spoke of places like the steppes of Russia, where sturdy, thick-haired horses roam free on a land stretching farther than the eye can see. This traveler called these horses “Tarpan”. Now, that’s a magnificent name! He even showed me a sketch, these creatures were larger than the largest of the Clydesdale breeds!
Allan spoke with such admiration and respect for the wild, untamed steeds. This only goes to show, we are valued in all parts of the world, despite the different landscapes, customs, and languages we may encounter.
A great deal of my time in 0218 was dedicated to assisting farmers and the locals of Hayfield. But some weeks were even more eventful, when merchants would come into town to sell and trade their wares. They would arrive in carriages, bringing all kinds of wondrous things – silks and spices, beautifully crafted furniture, and of course, delicious treats like dates and almonds for the horses. Those were always the best days, you know, with an extra handful of oats and perhaps even a piece of the sugar bread from the local baker, Fiona.
These merchants would be a joy to watch. Their carts would often be drawn by stunning animals with brightly-coloured harness and bells jingling on their bridles. Those were always days full of excitement and activity. Everyone was busy in Hayfield - bartering and trading goods. It was the most social time in our little village, where the humans would get together, enjoying meals and laughter around tables set up in the marketplace.
Although life has changed greatly for the better, since the Roman Empire has conquered most of our region, we have not lost the importance we once had. I, for one, still feel loved and appreciated for the valuable role I play. We horses are still revered for our strength, courage, and loyalty, something I feel deep within my being.
Despite our responsibilities, we find ways to enjoy life. Each evening, as the sky is ablaze with the hues of orange and purple, we can enjoy the company of each other in the stables. The familiar, comforting sounds of snorts and whinnies as we greet each other, the scent of hay filling our nostrils. We horses have our own language of snorts and flicked ears, which can convey so much more than simple words. It's comforting, like a whisper of reassurance amidst the rhythm of life.
One evening, as I was eating my evening oats and the stars began to twirl in the indigo night sky, I happened to witness an unforgettable event – the most awe-inspiring thing I have ever seen! An incredible spectacle which brought joy to the hearts of all humans and animals of Hayfield. I still think about it even now, whenever I see those sparkling night lights in the sky.
The sky shimmered with a beautiful dance of silver light, it appeared for a short time, then it vanished! I felt a tug on my reins, a feeling that some great, unseen force was calling to us. At the time, we, the horses of Hayfield, were filled with fear, unsure what to make of the celestial wonder. It looked as if the stars themselves were dancing. It seemed as if even the heavens were bowing in respect! The whole village had gathered, looking upwards, some with joy, some with fear in their eyes.
However, after a time, our worries abated. It became clear that the spectacle, the cosmic ballet in the sky, was a positive sign of good fortune. As we looked around, we could sense a change, an optimism filling the hearts of our human companions. Even those farmers who had been fearful at the start of the year now smiled. As we moved along our work, the air felt lighter and everyone spoke in happy tones.
I heard the villagers speak of this "northern light", as if it had some meaning, though the meaning was unknown to even the wisest men. They whispered amongst themselves of good things to come, and an end to some fears that have long haunted them.
Despite these unknowns, there's something magical about such experiences. And for a horse like myself, I appreciate the way it reminds us, in a way, of how connected we all are. We are part of a larger universe, something grand and full of wonders we may never fully comprehend.
So here we are, at the start of 0218. Though there’s much we cannot foresee, one thing I am sure of - life continues. It's a reminder that although life for a horse is full of challenges, the joy of simple moments, like enjoying a juicy carrot after a long day, spending time with my stablemates, the comforting scent of hay and the sound of gentle neighs in the night – these things are what bring peace to my soul.
Well, my dearest friends, that's all for today! The village bell is calling me for work, and a day filled with oats and the familiar clink of horse shoes on cobbled paths awaits me! Take care, and I'll catch you on the next post. Until then, may the sun always shine on your stables, may your hay be plentiful, and may you always know the feeling of contentment within your heart.
Farewell from Emma,
Your Neighbour in Hayfield near Aberdeen.
