History of Horses in the year 0304

My name is Emma, and I'm a twenty-year-old grey draught horse, with a mane and tail as white as snow. My home is Hayfield, a quiet corner of the world near Aberdeen, Scotland. And let me tell you, life for a horse in 0304 isn't all sunshine and rolling hills, but it is definitely a life filled with purpose and, let's face it, a good dose of oats!

This blog post is dedicated to chronicling the world of horses in the year 0304, through the lens of my own experiences and the stories whispered amongst the other horses in our stables and the fields.

My life is a routine. Each day starts with the sunrise and a gentle call from my owner, John. He gives me my breakfast of barley and hay, before harnessing me up for the day’s work. As a draught horse, my strength is vital. Today, we’re pulling a cart laden with fresh produce from the farms near Hayfield into the bustling markets of Aberdeen. This is the bread and butter for my kind - hauling goods, moving heavy burdens, making the world a little bit easier for humans.

But it’s not just about the work. Our life in the fields of Hayfield is tranquil. I love to graze with my friends, Maggie and Millie. We chat amongst ourselves about the newest gossip in the village – was it truly young Liam's mother who spotted a rare white stallion wandering through the highlands? The very idea sets our tails twitching with excitement.

I miss the wild life though, even if just in my dreams. I yearn for the open moorlands where our ancestors roamed, where the wind whistles through the heather, and the smell of the earth is wild and untamed. Sometimes I watch the stars from the fields, my ears pricked up, and I imagine galloping through the darkness, a wild spirit roaming free. It's a fleeting feeling, but one that reminds me of the magic that courses through my blood, a whisper of our lineage and strength.

My life is rooted in the farm, but the world outside Hayfield buzzes with activity, much of it connected to horses.

The Roman legions are still in Britain, their strong cavalry horses an impressive sight. They maintain the Roman roads and their patrols ensure peace across the land, relying on the speed and stamina of their mounts. In the recent years, however, rumours swirl of rebellion, and whispers of fierce Pict warriors with their agile, hardy horses, threatening Roman control. This talk fills even the quiet fields of Hayfield with a sense of foreboding.

Further afield, in the heart of the Roman Empire, grand chariots are pulled by magnificent horses. The Roman circuses are said to be spectacles of power, with the brave charioteers driving with lightning speed and reckless daring. This makes me shiver a little, picturing myself in the arena, a blur of colour and adrenaline!

Horses, as much as humans, play an important role in the shaping of history. This year has seen a flourishing of trade, as carts and wagons move goods across the land. They bring us together – we transport materials for the builders, who create new structures for people and their lives. We bring food to the hungry, supplies to the weary, and comfort to those who need it most.

We have a special relationship with humanity. We rely on their care, and they trust our strength. When the humans gather for a feast or festival, we stand by, their companions and silent witnesses.

Our bond goes deeper than just work. There is a connection, a subtle language we share with a good groom. It is a language of love, of understanding, of trust. John, my owner, he is good to me. He knows what I need, when I need it. His touch is gentle, and he whispers to me with his eyes, so I always know when he is thinking of me.

And it's through our human connections, through the careful care and understanding that is poured onto us, that we continue to play our vital role in the world, a testament to our strength, our loyalty, and the beauty of our unwavering spirit.

Today, as I stand under the golden light of the setting sun, watching the swallows dance and dive in the air above the field, I feel a deep sense of belonging, connected to the land, the people, and the horses that make up our world.

My journey through 0304 has just begun, but one thing is certain, each day with these horses and these people, brings its own unique brand of wonder. We are part of the world's story, a story that is just beginning to unfold, and I’m so grateful to be a part of it, every galloping step of the way.

So there you have it, my world as a grey draught horse, in the year 0304! Keep coming back, dear readers, to learn more about my life, and how horses, just like you and I, continue to shape our world.

Until next time!

Emma

Hayfield, Scotland