They weave his earthly incarnations out of sticks and straw, erecting them as monuments to the harvest, as bulwarks against the closing cold. They build him because they can, because they are compelled to do so, because they remember, on some deep and binding level, that it’s the sticks and straw and tinder or it’s beans in the bread and blood on the snow.

Continue: https://leemoyer.wordpress.com/2021/12/22/yul-byrner-the-small-god-of-harvest-sacrifice/