Solstice

My uncle says one day there will be sharper axes than flint. He’s a funny old boy, must be nearly 30, maybe that’s why he gets these crazy ideas. Says the chthonic gods won’t last for ever, I said you need to watch out for the bolt from the blue, saying that kind of stuff. My uncle thinks the time may come when all the bears and aurochs will be gone, but that’s plainly nonsense, for the beasts are as plentiful as the salmon in the river, and the fish crowd in near the seashore just asking to be caught.

He can be quite frightening when he gets into that trance of his, though. No nonsense about the gods dying then! – looks like he’s in the grip of two or three at a time, throwing himself about until his nose bleeds, shouting and howling, what an embarrassment. Well, the people like it, although I must say I’d much rather be making arrowheads. At least you know you’re doing something useful, helping the hunt, making a beautiful weapon that’ll last for days.

But he says all these things will lie buried in the ground for as many summers as there are berries in the forest. Nobody believes that, any more than we believe anyone will bother digging them up again. It’s obvious that what has been for ever will continue the same for ever. I and my family will die, and our children will continue the hunt, and our spirits will be together again in the underworld. So it will be, and the gods of forest, river, earth and sky will never fail us, whatever my crazy old uncle says.

Of course, like quite a few people with the right connections, I’ve seen the paintings in the cave. But I can’t see into the rock the way the shamans say happens. That world, if it exists, is closed to me. It’s just mumbo jumbo, flickering lights, drumming, chanting, boring rubbish – I’d far rather knap flint.

Talking of which, I have my quota to finish, can’t hang around on this boulder all day looking at the vista. So you might as well get back into that flying box thing of yours and be off. Oh, next time maybe you’ll meet my uncle, he might be more interesting to speak to, if he’s not in some trance or up to his elbows in red ochre. Just try to avoid the solstice, he’s always got a lot of appointments that day.

Copyright © Donnie Ross 2010