I took this picture about five years ago. It was the only cloud in the whole sky and it blocked the sun out perfectly! I also thought the cloud looked like a heart so it gave the picture an extra meaning. I think this picture goes with my post for today the best since the post is actually something I blogged about five years ago as well on my photography/writing blog. The post is a short fictitious imagining of life in an ancient tribe suffering through a horrible drought and famine. It goes well with the subjects I have been researching lately and its a good break from my usual, I hope you enjoy it.
PEACE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can see the whole tribe, it is rare indeed to have them all together but then again this was a rare event indeed.  I scanned the crowd and quickly located my family; they of course had a front row seat for the celebration as I was the main attraction.  The sun was out and burning as hot as ever in the midday sky, beating us with the intense heat that had been responsible for almost two full seasons of drought.  Our once flourishing tribe was withering away under the scorching heat. Hundreds had died including my Mother.  Thoughts of her and how badly she suffered as she slowly wasted away to nothing in front of my eyes made what I was doing easier for me to accept. I wanted no one to suffer like that again.  I spent the last few days of her life gently stroking her hair reassuring her that the Gods would come back soon enough.  They didn’t hear our prayers that season as the crop failed to grow and the hunters returned empty handed.  The herds had migrated farther and farther south in search of grass to live on, if they didn’t succumb to starvation first.  Food was so scarce that first winter that we were forced to eat our dogs, it wasn’t easy but Father reminded me that our people are a strong people and that this was the result of the Gods testing our faith in them.  Somehow we survived that second winter but our numbers had been decimated, whole families were lost.  If the rains didn’t come this season all would be lost. Many were already packing up and getting ready to follow the long gone herds or die trying to get to them. My Father pleaded with them to wait, our ancestors had settled this land hundreds of seasons ago and he intended to keep this our homeland for all of time.  This was a very troubling time for my Father as he and I both knew what would have to happen if the rains didn’t fall that spring.  I spent those long, cold hungry winter nights praying for the Gods to let our crops come this year, to stop the suffering of our people and to bring us back to their good graces.  There was too much at stake to wait too any longer, my Father and the Priests chose the Summer solstice to conduct the ritual, since we had gone another Spring with no rain. it was under the sweltering midday sun that they would conduct the ancient ritual that they hoped would save their people. A sacrifice would be made to the Gods. They could not ignore a sacrifice, especially the one my father and the Priests had in mind. They would sacrifice a virgin and not just any virgin, the princess herself, me.  Father made me aware of the plan a few months prior and although I was afraid of dying I was happy to be chosen to represent my people as the greatest gift that could be given to the Gods, besides it was my duty as the princess according to my father and the Head Priest.  To die for the Gods was a great gift indeed and after watching my Mother die horribly and with no purpose I was more than honored to be chosen as the vessel to reach the Gods.  So I stand on the head of the Serpent Mound surrounded by priests chanting and I see my family watching with looks of pride etched on their faces, yet my heart aches when I realize my Mother won’t see this wonderful day and that makes me able to go on so bravely.   My Father assists me to the stone slab that will be my last resting spot and before he gently lays me on it I smile to the assembled crowd and lie down.  The priests close in around me chanting louder and louder, waving smoking herbs while sprinkling blood, oil and water on me.  The priests frantic movements caused a breeze to send a wisp of my hair over my right eye, instinctively I went to brush it off and almost chuckled as I had forgotten my Father hand bound my hands and feet when I had laid down.  I had always been annoyed when this had happened and I suppose it was ironic that it was the last thing I thought of as my Father’s blade drove through my chest and punctured my heart.  I hope the rains fall………………………………………….