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An ECO WORLD

At GreenPolicy360, there is a thought that comes 'n goes, a drifting thought about the beginnings, ancient beginnings, and south of the Great Rift Valley in 'the old world when all was green'.

The ancient peoples now call it 'a Zambezi world'. Others call the Rift, where the Continent was hewn, 'Humanity's Birthplace'.

• https://www.livescience.com/31307-african-rift-valley-image.html

Today, we're singing of how we, humanity, came out of Africa and we're looking at images of the Rift taken from the International Space Station in a flat, desolate, barren flatlands that's south of the Zambezi.... in the San world of the indigenous people, the aborigine. Some say these people are the oldest old tribe of ancients left in this modern world.

The Stars Above

The ancient San people in the Zambezi region 'talk to the stars' they say. Their world used to be rich they explain. Now most all of what used to be the richness is gone.

They feel sorry for us, for we are 'ill' they say in an attempt at comforting, because we cannot 'talk to the stars' as they do, so there must be something wrong with us.

And we remember Carl Sagan now who spoke of 'science' of the stars and how we are 'made from stars' and so we feel better, but most all of us cannot _feel the stars that we came from_ .....

Photo Courtesy of Andrew McCarthy

Stardust Origins

• https://www.greenpolicy360.net/w/Stardust_Origins

"We are made of star stuff"

From the Rift the ancient ones move on ... out of Africa and thousands of years later we can still listen to the few voices left of ancient wisdom....

We listen to how they speak of power, of rich homelands, and how in olden days they lived in a path of beauty, before them and behind them, how they walked in beauty, in and of nature. Today what is left is a memory, memories and riddles, the old ones, 'Anasazi' as some are called in the Americas. The ancient ones, the old ones, the few who are left in the modern world, tell their stories.

The green that they believed was forever is gone. What was is memory. What the moderns call savannas is no longer in the world south of the Rift in the Zambezi world. What is left is in the north, far away, out of sight. The days of vast green plains with vast beyond-eyesight herds of wild animals are long gone. The trees and their entwined canopies that used to call to us are mostly gone, as remnant trees, like sentinels stands desolate amid the baked plains now.

Those rains with life giving water, those was no drought, what was drought, the waters of life are not to be found without traveling far, far, far to the North, following the stars that talk to the San and speak of sounds of the Great River itself and rushing water cascading the stories sing of Seas beyond vision, a Great Ocean where the Sun rises.

The ancient San people have faded away and the few wandering tribe remnants now carry their water in cracked birds eggs, protected in carefully woven baskets that protect as they roam in a desolate landscape.

The world of the San is harsh but their memories are rich in their telling... the lush times, the good times when the grass was green and they were rich in a richness of life around them, in them, and above them... life was to be protected, this they knew. They see a bigger story.

The people south of the Zambezi live in an ECO world... They remember and they tell us in tales what to know of the richness of life that has gone away.

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