They do it almost as if the ground itself is humming a collective rhythm. The same root—stiff, stubborn, bright—draws everyone in because the act turns a solitary need into a communal gesture. When the first buds appear, the line between personal remedy and shared ritual blurs; the root becomes a point where individual survival aligns with the group's pattern. It’s a quiet reminder that even our most basic habits are stitched into the wider social fabric.