Over that hill there is a world full of promise and uncertainty. We can predict what the future will hold, and do our best to plan for all possibilities. However we will never know, the number of uncertainties is simply mind boggling. In short there is no way to know the number of things that we do not know. The best we can do is hope our plans and schemes are worthwhile.
The cold winds blow, constant and ceaseless, nature requires that we build shelters and such. Putting down timbers and stolen. Using nature against itself. To try and protect those things we have scrapped together. Trying to mark our place and time on this rock. To say " I was here This is who I am." those things gain a personal significance, and we pass them along to our family and friends that they might have something to remember us by. The problem being that they will find that they will find that the things we pass on mean different things to them. Where do they keep our memories in amongst those that they are trying to build for themselves.
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