When humanity was young, survival was a steady struggle. We were not particularly fast, or large, or strong, or agile creatures. To survive, we’d band together into tribes – to hunt together, to gather food together, to protect each other from the harsh world.
Imagine being alive in those early days. The world is wild, and mortally dangerous. Life is uncertain. Your community, the human warmth of your tribe, is your best promise of survival.
And as we near the longest, darkest night of the year; imagine knowing that winter was again approaching. That the land was dying again, as it had the year before, and the year before, and the year before. That the cold, dark days ahead held the dangers of sickness and starvation. That those days might just kill you, or your family, or your tribe.
Imagine wondering why the sun was, again, forsaking you to hungry days and bitter-cold nights. Why? Have we angered the sun? It is just tired? Can we, our voices together, entreat with it to come back?
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