The motion of reaching across to draw the comforter over you in bed and ward against the chill is universal

Do you ever wonder that, laying in high summer pasturelands, it was once a woolen cloak that wrapped you

Or a drift of leaves on an earthen bed in the shade of a prehistoric glen

Or a cut of woolly mammoth's hide on the forest floor of an ice covered age

Surely they dreamt of warmer places, the imaginative seed for a future of synthetic cotton comforters and spring-loaded mattresses, but only could the most prescient of our ancestors have foreseen that in abandoning the hardships of survival we would forsake a visceral link with nature and our natural selves, all but disappeared save for the stray transpositions of musing poets.

EDIT: rewrite to: The motion of reaching across to draw the comforter over yourself in bed is universal. 10/14/09