A Footloose and Fancy-Free Widow
They called me Mother Nature.
Perhaps, in ages past, the title was appropriate.
When the race of humans relied on me for survival, called to me for help and had the luxury of blaming me for disasters, I did think of them as children. If their homes and families and lives were destroyed by a natural disaster, they knew it was nothing more or less than a message from their disapproving Mother. When their crops were watered and their bloodlines flourished, they knew who to thank.
It was their failure to recognize the changing relationship with me that lead to their downfall. When they, frail, short-lived, yet ambitious creatures that they were, became a force of nature . . . Well, I suppose they outgrew me.
At that moment, they lost their Mother. I was still there, but they lost sight of me. They could not recognize what I had become: a spouse.
It sounds strange, I know, and I can tell you from experience that the humans would have been very uncomfortable with the implied incest.