The god's eyes were closed, her long fingers raised like a conductor on the verge of symphony.

To her back, brightly coloured pinwheels spun an endless sweet drone, and beyond them I saw great windmills of stone and hardwood, their blades turning with tectonic grace.

The landscape heaved with the surging wind, as flags crackled in stutterstep rhythm and seabirds cried like far-off children.