This is a story that my great-grandfather told me when I was a child. I've told it to you before, but were you listening? So I am writing it down, and when I leave on my travels your mother, my daughter will be able to read it to you. My great-grandfather told me this story when I was being disingenuous or insincere, a fault I was prone to when I was young. You might think because of this that he made the story up to teach me, but that is not so. It is a true story from his own life, and when he returns from his travels he will tell it to you much better than I can. On a very clear day go and stand at the top of the hill and look out to sea. On the far horizon, if the air is clear enough, you will see a thin grey line. This is the cloud that covers the old land, the land that my great-grandparents left to come here. In that land the sun almost never breaks through the cloud to shine on the land. The cloud moves slowly, always east to west, and when it drops rain it is hard and hea...