The drum spoke to my soul. If it hadn’t, the compression from the speakers in my truck would have forced my body into compliance. It was the beating of a heart and mine sped up to match it.
The singer’s howl of primal rage and pain set me on fire with fight response. Every ancestor, back to those who added it to the pool, would have reacted as I did. Adrenalin dumped into my body. Muscles tightened, hands gripped the wheel tightly and I scanned for the threat. I was able to stop a return bellow but am fairly sure my teeth bared in a snarl before I could stop them.
This was an ageless, mammalian thing.
Kayaks on the roofs of cars reminded me that the land I was driving over was an ancient sea floor mussed up a bit by glaciers. The critters that swam that sea would have thought us a tasty little bite (including kayaks) if they thought of us at all. They and their ocean were far older than my reaction or even the existence of mammals.
I watched the land pass outside my truck and was glad the sea bed was now corn fields and the critters part of the plastic in the kayaks.