you talk to me in the middle of night, i show you a light that’s not mine

In cauldrons of aqua, a green spirit’s delight, A cleansing specter, unseen by night. Humble alchemist of water's rebirth, Its touch turns murk to purity, for what it's worth.

THESE CHURN AIR The letters above will help you find, A pair of words that bring to mind, Massive storms over land and sea. Tell me now, what can they be?

It can build a nest Or a fire Either way for it to be best More than one, you'll require

In a monochrome suit with a wild flair, I stride across plains with a striped affair. A horse in disguise, nature's optical trick, blending in herds, yet standing out quick.