The months have passed and summer is high - this year the clouds have gathered in a strange grey sky. Not blue and brilliant, not waves of heat - but floods and destruction and tears of grief. A cycle moving to a different pull - the seasons changing as they always will. In ages past before man became - the faeries knew this would happen again again. Our memories short we seem surprised... that flood plains flood - and water rise - happens as a matter of course - and always has. The lessons learned we gather together - we turn our faces unto the weather - and for the time we will remember, grow old and all forgotten - cycles come and cycles go - the time is not ours to know. This is nature and here we stumble - in front of faeries we now are humble. From ages past till ages future - they know the ways of weather and creature.