Snow has fallen, starting its work of covering the imperfections of earth. Whenever I see a first snowfall, I always wonder if this is how an ice age started. The snow came. It stayed. It came again. It stayed. Before the days of instant communication, how would humans have known what to do? Would going south have been a thing? Of course, we’re a long way from that. The weather people are keeping us apprised, we know when the snow will end, and even where it’s snowing.

All nice things to know, but I wonder sometimes if I really need to know them. Probably. Otherwise, how would we plan? And plans are important. We need to know where we’re going and when. Sort of a far cry from the days when plans mostly involved the comings and goings of plants and animals, stuff we were going to eat and use to dress ourselves. For our little group, we did our hunting and gathering yesterday in the convenience of a supermarket. Now the plan is to gather our gear and head to Red River, where we will listen to music.

I wonder if they dig up the place 10,000 years from now will they wonder what went on there? Will they think it was a religious festival? Will there even be any evidence that we gathered? Will there be any reason to dig? After all, think how many places there are on earth right now where humans probably lived, and we have no idea. Sort of humbling, at least for me. To think that all the things I think important will one day matter not at all to anyone, even if they care to look.