The pass collapsed two weeks past, no way in or out beside sheer cliffs up or down. We have with us all we need to survive and flourish, even if most no longer realize that.
Watch them all slowly growing more and more desperate, in silent frenzy as they wrestle with their own thoughts and inaction, unable to bring themselves to peace to reflect and consider the world inside, rather than their obsession with the world outside.
It will take days to clear the path, but it will not happen in the snow as the earth and rocks freeze solid adding ice to the barricade of nature.
So many have never felt this isolation, so many see this as being so very alone. But all along one need only to sit back and watch their desperation, their dependence on the world outside their own.
Watch as their pull at their hairs and bite on their nails, staring at a path blocked by rock, rubble and ice, pining and crying for what may or may not lay on the other side.
And all the while I smile and stoke my fire, and hum as I wait. Waiting not for the path to clear, but in anticipation of which will be the first to break and how they will do so. For when they finally do, who knows what their weak and fickle minds may do with energy misplaced and desperate.
But what a lovely tune I hum at rest.