many layers of myth

many layers of myth

fiction
edward w pritchard

Awaking on a dark cold winter's night, one with no stars, moon or sunrise anywhere visual, many many layers of myth sent to me from generation after generation of my ancient relatives and ancestors are stacked like paper thin sheets of valuable gold somewhere in the recesses of my brain urging me in dreams to remember the importance of warmth and stores of foodstuff for the next four lean months.

Wood and foodstuff were life itself  in the fearful freezing winter cold months to our ancient surviving ancestors and they were resourceful, hard working  and lucky to be alive as they sent hardwired to our brains inclinations that we all carry now that insure our success in life today even in a world of vast material resources and confidence about our future stretching forward uninterrupted in our lives for tens and twenties of prosperous years.

In our time even the elderly are confident about the looming future.

Hear the howling winter winds driving us to arise early, tramp over the frozen ground gathering small clumps of wood for fires and to steal nuts and edibles from the squirrels and small rodents for today's sustenance.

Start your day there in the early morning darkness with a plea-ful prayer to the hidden nameless God who if appeased will send Spring in four long months to allow food to grow and water to thaw.