“It’s more that the seasons were divided,” she explains. “Into what agreed with the growing times.”

Susan squeezes his hand and then drops it to count off on her fingers as she recites, “Winter, Wide-Earth, Sowing, Mid-Summer, Full-Earth, Reaping —“

Oh, and there’s that slight shiver again; she can’t seem to help it, but continues,

“—and Year’s End, each with its own Fair Day, too.”