June and July experience Winter

Everything has it's birth, death as well,
Therefore we, the warmest, most alive, months of the year -
Sisterhood and brotherhood of wild raspberries, sunlit streams
and distant clouds whose rainfall tell of old tales -
Granted a greet to the neighbors, yet still uncertain of what they'd share.
Stopping in the midst of a moor, all white and empty
Where are all the daisies, blueclocks, dahlias? June asked.
They probably hide underneath the white blanket? July guessed.
They'd wander for a while, the landscapes nothing as they knew them.
Why is the air so dry, where is the life? Asked July.
Must be because of the large, heavy falls of white that prevent them from buzzing, answered June.
They'd journey ahead, steps more uncertain, reaching a river.
How to ease one's thirst, when the riverbank is frozen? Asked June.
They melt it to liquid streams again, I presume, answered July, as the most normal thing to do. 
Gray day turned to the darkest nights.
Why do the sky darken so quickly? Asked June
And moon replace sun by the horizon? Asked July
The siblings looked above, and saw with the strangest of expressions,
A blurred, yet strong and colourful light in cyan and magenta played with the nightsky before them.
They complained about the absence - flowers, life, light, sun, streams.
And the siblings walked away, only blind to the beauty of what was already there.
The aurora illuminated silently and granted the north with it's light,
Surrounded by a thousand and more stars that only shine in darkness.