It was a well-known fact that Tom of Upperstep kept moon months in his rickety old house. It was one of those trials that needed to be won on the path out of childhood - run into the grounds, peek through the window, glimpse the moths but remain unseen at all times (or face the no-doubt excruciating consequences). The moths could only be seen at night. They glowed as they twisted themselves around inside the jars, beating their light out in screams for release. Tom cradled them in his heart and saw no reason to let them go. But one day someone saw them, and despaired. That was the day the wind whipped through the forest, telling the land what it had heard and what was to come. Even the smallest of the leaves rustled in delight.