Greetings, with humble apologies for intruding upon the time of your holy holinesses: I am but a mere mortal, and a stranger to your abode, and yet I feel I must speak.
Salutations shall be yours for that glorious month of July of which I have heard so much. Though I passed that wonderous time in parts far away, and though your brethren Portuguese weather gods are also mighty and good, the tales of your particular Summer beneficence are reknowned and will live on in the hearts of your people. Of August also have legends already begun.
Praise be for the week of warm rain which greeted my homecoming, proof both of your greatness, and of the folly of my long absence from your realm. Blessed were the months of September and October, for their benign magnificence, where you quashed the three conjoined demons, cold, rain, and dark to give your loyal populace respite from the harsh times which have always been a part of the heavenly existence which you have created.
The holy month of November is now upon us, and it is here that protestations must be given to your eminences. You are great, you are good, and your blessings are eternal. Salutations are offered for the manner in which you change the seasons slowly, shortening each day, and refreshing each night. Reverence is given to your cyclical nature.
Yet, I fear the time for snow should not yet have arisen. Lamentations are given, together with sacrificial leverpostej, sild, and snaps, in order that the snow shall be no more during this blessed November month. I bow at the feet of your majesties, and tremble, afraid that this, my deepest desire shall be as a threat in Thine eyes. Let the white flaky coldness lift from the land, and let the people rejoice by your grace.