Throughout memory the two-legs had sought to predict the weather, but instead of paying attention to what Mother whispered, they built complicated algorithms and drew highly coloured charts. However, they missed the soughing of the wind and the lie of the hairs on the backs of certain leaves.
So it was that when the great storm came we were tucked away inside the cave system while those few of them with eyes to see floated on the ocean in a tiny boat.
Mother shrugged her shoulders but they prevailed.
Our oldest spoke.
“I wonder if they remembered the dove…”
Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Five Hundred and One
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