SUMMER
The queen was dying. So sad was the forest that the animals hid themselves away in mourning and the streams trickled less. As she lay, fading from life, her subjects crumbled beneath the weight of grief, for the love of her. Upon the veranda, on that blazing hot day, she ordered them not to grieve for her; it was simply her time. All things passed into the earth and she would be no exception. Her sister would rule, and the world would go on. It was a lesson the trees forgot; they wept, their leaves falling inconsolably to the earth.
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