I was trying to daydream, but my mind kept wandering.
Trees go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!
Imagine, if you will, a story that is too tall to tell. The story of how a people were forged and formed. The story is always unique to environment, locale, personalities and climate.
Envisage that these people are persecuted wherever they go. Their ways are different and strange. Their clothes are unfamiliar, too. They stand out in a crowd.
The inhabitants around them are suspicious. They are wary. They watch for any threat or hint of danger to their family, comfort level or way of life.
The people of our tale have to keep moving on, either by choice, economic force or legal edict. They rarely dare to become individuals on their own and put down roots. They keep moving until they come to that place that they know is theirs. They are nomads and then they aren't.
This is the place! Here! Our home! And yet even still, it is not easy to settle. There are giants to be dealt with. Wars to waged. Enemies to be bested.
And after settlement, it is a struggle to sustain oneself. It is a campaign, a crusade to survive.
But they do take up residence, procreate, become part of the landscape. Generations pass and individuality dares to creep forth....
Who are these people?
I imagine you have someone in mind. I did, and then I thought of another group of people and another and another.
It is a story as old as history - oral and written.
It is my story, the account of my people. It is your story, the legend of your people.
Now, what should we do with this saga?
I have no idea, I am just wandering!
As are the fellows in the clip below. Oh my!
(Watch it! If for no other reason than there are TWO accordions!)