Skadi and Frigga seem to be two sides of the same coin.
Without the cold outside, the hearth fire inside feels oppressive. With no icy chill to huddle against, we don’t gather together and tell stories in the dark. The reminder of death helps us celebrate life.
Skadi works her magic, turning the world outside into a strange otherworld. The home becomes one’s anchor to the real and the rational. Strangeness creeps through the snow and night, but the warmth and firelight and laughter seal the walls that keep us safe.
The push of winter and the pull of the fire conspire to remind us of the deep bonds of kinship that keep us alive when the world has abandoned us. It’s easy to forget how much we depend on each other during the warm summer months when Her bounty flows forth.
This constant expansion and contraction of our social circles are the pumping of the heart of the community. Lungs that deeply inhale and exhale to drive life forward as we grow and die and become the tales of our children’s children’s children.