| abstract | - The seasons are a cycle. A perfect circle. It doesn't matter which way you look at it. North to South, left to right... it's the same thing. I like it because you can twist the circle to fit how you think of it. Winter can start the cycle, and then it can end with fall. Or you could start with summer and end with spring. I asked Dustpelt this, a long time ago. He told me he liked to start with spring and end with winter. When I asked him why, he told me it was because it followed the flowers. They begin to blossom in the delicate spring weather, and display all their glory in summer. Then slowly, in the crisp winds of fall, they wilt. By winter they are gone, reduced to nothing but dormant seeds underground. It sounds sad and pessimistic, but think about it. After winter comes spring. And you always know that the flowers will come back again. Spring. Summer. Fall. Winter. It was like my mantra in my hardest times. On the Great Journey, it was the patterns of my footfalls. With my kits, it was the beat of their hearts against mine. Sometimes it was just being pressed against Dustpelt, feeling our pelts rise and brush in unison. Spring. Summer. Fall. Winter. I followed the flowers and I wait for them to bloom again in spring. I taught my kits their names. Their beauty comforted me. And in my darkest times, the flowers would remind me of the joys I had. My name is Ferncloud. This is the story of my family and the flowers.
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