The Hedgehog with the Weather Machine

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The Hedgehog with the Weather Machine
Deep in the forest, where paths no longer lead and the moss covers the earth like a carpet, there is a clearing so strange that even the owls whisper about it at night.
In the center of this clearing stands a massive machine—a stubborn jumble of tubes, levers, spinning gears, pressure gauges, and flashing lights. It hisses, rattles, and gurgles quietly, as if in a mood. And in the middle of it all, on a narrow wooden ladder with a tool pouch on its belt: a hedgehog wearing safety goggles.
He wears a slightly sooty smock and a serious expression as he turns a particularly stubborn knob. A white cloud of steam shoots out of a side valve, accompanied by a triumphant "Pfff!" from the machine—and a satisfied nod from the hedgehog.
To the left of the clearing, the sun shines warm and golden. Daisies sway in the breeze, butterflies dance. To the right, however, thick snow is falling, and a deer in a scarf and hat gazes perplexedly up at the sky. Between them stands a group of animals with umbrellas, astonished but too polite to protest.
"Zone B needs more moisture," murmurs the hedgehog, slowly pushing a lever labeled "Drizzle" upwards. Immediately, a light drizzle begins – only above the badger, who is just opening his newspaper.
No one knows exactly where the hedgehog got the machine. Some say he built it himself. Others believe it appeared to him in a dream. The only thing that's certain is that since it's been in the clearing, no two days have been the same. Sometimes it rains backward, sometimes it snows according to his instinct, and once there was only sunrise for a week.
But the hedgehog remains calm. He carefully notes everything in his weather book, which already has many dog-eared pages. And when someone asks him why he does all this, he simply says:
"Because weather is far too important to leave to chance."