Hello fellow equines and horse lovers! Emma here, your trusty guide through the fascinating history of our beloved species. It’s me again, back from my usual duties in Hayfield, near the bonnie highlands of Aberdeen, Scotland. And what a year it has been!
Let me tell you, the year 1088, it felt like a whirlwind. It seemed every day was filled with new adventures and even some surprises – just like you can expect in a mare’s life, wouldn’t you agree?
But let's rewind back to where I started, shall we? You know, being a grey draught horse, with my trusty white mane and tail, my days in 1088 were typically filled with hard work, helping out my human companions. That’s what we draughthorses are bred for, to be strong, patient, and dedicated. We are the workhorses, the reliable ones, pulling ploughs through fields and hauling carts full of goods across rough terrain. It’s tough, sure, but fulfilling work, knowing that I’m contributing to a vital part of everyday life.
As for my days, they were simple, just as I like them. Up before dawn, a quick bite of breakfast - sometimes some leftover oats, sometimes some hay - and off we’d go! In the fields, helping the farmer plant and harvest. This year, there were good crops, which pleased our human companions. They'd talk about the "abundant harvest," thanking the gods, the good weather, and, yes, even us for a good harvest! You see, even in those times, we horses were more than just working beasts – we were a vital part of the community, earning their appreciation.
But life wasn't always about ploughing and carting, though. There were those rare occasions when I’d be lucky enough to spend time out in the pasture, soaking up the sun, feeling the wind rustle through my coat. Ah, those are the days when the world feels calm and serene. That’s where I reflect, taking in the gentle symphony of nature around me: the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the murmur of the nearby river, the chirping of the birds - nature’s own lullaby. These moments of tranquility really make the harder times worthwhile, don't they?
Speaking of those moments, let's talk about the highlights of 1088! Remember when I said this was a year full of surprises?
Well, remember our local blacksmith, that strong and kindly man? He had the most remarkable stories about distant lands, filled with descriptions of exotic horses - strong Andalusian stallions, elegant Friesians, even horses with coats like molten gold from Persia! Hearing him describe these majestic creatures, each with unique temperaments and abilities, set my heart aflutter. I was mesmerized by these tales, as were many of the other horses in Hayfield. It was almost as if our shared bond across the land was stronger than anything else.
And guess what? One evening, while helping cart the barley harvest to the nearby village, something extraordinary happened. We were just leaving the village, when from a distance, we heard a rhythmic clip-clop, the unmistakable sound of many horses on the cobblestones. The village elders told stories of such things, about travelling merchants and their goods - usually arriving at the start of autumn.
Suddenly, we saw them! A whole caravan, horses as far as the eye could see! I couldn't help but peek at them through the gaps between the wooden cart I was pulling. Amongst the others, there were stallions, mares, foals, even an odd-looking mule or two, with a curious combination of horse and donkey features. They had saddlebags overflowing with merchandise from all over, even from lands as far away as the Middle East! Some of the horses, particularly the stallions, had brightly colored saddle cloths, others were even adorned with jingling bells that gave a cheerful music to their rhythmic hooves.
One of them - a fiery bay with a lightning-bolt shaped streak across its white coat - seemed particularly eager. His tail flicked, and his hooves pounded on the stones, as if impatiently waiting for the journey to end. Seeing his excitement was almost infectious! I felt my own spirit stir, a touch of adventure buzzing beneath my grey coat.
I, being a steady draught horse, remained steadfast in my role, and our journey continued without a hitch. As we unloaded the grain, I felt my eyes follow that majestic bay. Later that evening, our farmer even shared some gossip he heard from the caravan's leader, who spoke of faraway countries like Spain and France. These lands, according to his tales, were filled with horses, all of different shapes, colours, and skills, making me want to journey further than Hayfield.
Now, I wasn't destined to be a traveller. My role was here, amongst the fields of Scotland, where my strength and stamina were truly appreciated. But I must admit, the bay stallion and the caravan left a lasting impression, a spark of wanderlust, you could say. Maybe one day...
Fast forward to a couple of months later, and we are already well into the autumn season.
There was an unusual, yet wonderful sight at Hayfield one crisp morning. The villagers, many carrying bowls filled with grain and water, were surrounding our stable! I was a little confused. Then the elder women, with kind, smiling faces, stepped closer to me and shared what they had come for - the harvest festival.
That day, I felt more than just a workhorse. We were part of something bigger, a celebration of our community. You see, after the tough work, it's vital to honour the season's bounty and appreciate the bond we share with nature. As I munched on extra sweet grains from my bowl, I couldn't help but feel the spirit of this moment, an emotion not merely of food, but of connection. It felt magical. A special kind of bond formed between horses and humans. That's how I think of it.
1088 has certainly been a year of change and challenges, of hard work and special moments. From the spring ploughing and summer harvest to the crisp air of autumn, life at Hayfield was never boring, filled with moments of routine as well as moments of extraordinary wonder. As we settled down into a long Scottish winter, a sense of contentment settled over us, the knowledge that, like the turning of the seasons, we would return, strong, resilient and ready to start anew.
See you next month, for more exciting stories and fascinating moments from my life in the past!
Until next time, Emma
