The winds had blown all week, keeping all but the bravest fairies hidden deep in the recesses of their homes in the nooks and hollows of trees which had been buffeted for days. The trees spoke to each other in groans and creaks. A windy day was generally regarded as being exciting, when the very gentle whisper of everyday life in the woods became a bustle as the upper branches became alive in a swaying dance and the animals seemed to move with a little more spring in their step. This week had been different though, with gusts so strong that some of those branches and even entire trunks had come crashing down to the woodland floor, leaving the wildlife trembling at the thunderous noise.
The fairies were safe enough - the trees they chose to make their homes in became protected and had seen countless storms blow their way through the woods; the most ancient trees, the grand, gnarled old oaks had been standing for hundreds of years. They still waited with a slight sense of trepidation however, for the winds to quieten, so they could explore the changes to the woodland floor. Sometimes after winds it seemed as though there were more tree trunks lying horizontal than those still standing. Their use was far from over - all manner of creatures loved nothing more then a fallen tree to set up home in, from beetles to snails to mosses to the more ground-loving of the fairies. Hollowed out trunks with newly formed, woody smelling sawdust were perfectly carpeted and soft underfoot.
And of course, the fairies still had their duties, which could not be put off by any kind of weather!