Lindsey Buckingham was nowhere to be found
In the middle of the forest on the hill is a ley, and through that ley runs a creek, and across that creek rests a weir, and by that weir stands a detached concrete wall.
By that wall is a table of wrought iron, and surrounding that table are three wrought iron chairs, upon which there are no cushions. Were one to query a being seated upon one of these chairs, one might be told that it was a most uncomfortable place for one's hindquarters.
In the days of yore, one Philip discovered this place, and this Philip did seek out his friend Paul to show him the glorious place that he had found.
Paul was readily impressed, and the two of them appointed themselves the caretakers of this place by the weir in the creek in the ley in the forest on the hill. They built a shed next to the detached concrete wall, and in that shed they placed tools of the sort used for groundskeeping, and eventually they acquired an old riding mower that someone had been in the process of discarding, and they placed the mower also in the shed, and worried about the value of the mower in the shed, they procured a large combination lock for the door of the shed, and installed it hastily.
As the trove in the shed burgeoned, Philip and Paul invited more friends to share enjoyment of their place by the weir in the creek in the ley in the forest on the hill. People would come every day and watch them cut the grass and kill the moss on the detached concrete wall. On rare occasions a guest would say, « Need any help with that? » and Philip would shout back, « No, thanks, we've got it all under control! »
This golden age continued for quite some time, but as with all glorious things, one small event disturbs the balance, things spiral out of control, and despite anyone's efforts, nothing succeeds in restoring the state which many found so very acceptable.
HOW IT HAPPEN: Philip had a dream about an angel on the beach. This dream plagued him day in and day out. It plagued him like the wind. Finally, sitting on the detached concrete wall, murdering some moss, he snapped. « If I can't get an angel, I can still get a boy, and a boy'll be the next thing to an angel, » he announced. « The next best thing to an angel, » he clarified. « A boy'll be the next best thing. » Then, to further illustrate the progress of his nervous breakdown, he leapt off the wall and ran into the forest.
« What? » replied Paul, and continued his labors. « Need any help? » some guests inquired. « No, we've got it all under control, » Paul answered.
The days went by, and Philip remained absent. Paul started to work more slowly, and neglected certain parts of their sanctuary. Soon he only showed up every other day.
« Hey, guys! » Philip shouted, arriving to find most of the regulars there. « Sorry I haven't had time to attend to things, but I've been busy. »
« Do you need any help? » someone grunted half-heartedly.
« Naw! » Philip answered, « I'll just catch up now. » Thus he spake, and thus he did. Inspired by Philip's toil, Paul resumed his efforts more heartily, even though Philip disappeared again.
The days went by, and Philip remained absent. Paul started to work more slowly, and neglected certain parts of their sanctuary. Eventually he was doing almost nothing at all.
« Is. There. Something. We. Can. Do. To. Help? » asked the peanut gallery.
« I don't know, » Paul snapped. « If you want to help, ask Philip. » He stormed off.