Autumn festivals. The bright and warm season ends. The dark and cold season starts. Between the autumn’s equinox and the winter solstice. On the edge of the sun’s and the moon’s cycles. Forty days before the heart of winter. Time halts while the veil of this world is shredded allowing the other reality to break in. The reality of the wilderness spirits, hidden in the depth of the forest. The world of order, so as to avoid dying, permits, for a short while, the primordial chaos breath to pour into our midst.
A Spirit of the wilderness God emerges from the world of the spirits at the head of the Wild hunt while the cold tempest blows. During the autumn carnival, one feasts on the first pigs slaughtered at the beginning of the cold season. Masques and disguises. Banquets. Bonfires. Festivals.
In the Jura mountains, under the benevolent patronage of Saint Martin, the saint who donned once according to a legend the regalia of the Bear-God, one still lavishly celebrates the pork food – ‘god’ for want of a better word since the bear figure of the wild and powerful ancestor is far more archaic than the idea of the gods.
Meanwhile, the Bear-God locks himself inside its cave to prepare for the return of fecundity in a few months. What are the sun, the moon, the world of the forest, and the cold season, to us children of the large cities? Do we even remember what is a place? A time?
The world of life has taken refuge deep inside its cavern, where it is sheltered from the world of the universally triumphant technological order.
But this cannot last forever.
photography : luna©claudiaturfauquex
collaboration : Tanit Agency
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