The roiling storm clouds above your head are a constant reminder of the chaos and flux that permeates this world, but in their capriciousness they can be a blessing as often as a curse; though the rare destructive storms may devastate a community and ruin lives, in their wake the land is often molded into something new and intriguing.
On the other hand the life-giving rain is the only source of water for those fragments without springs welling up from inside them and can feed your crops and rejuvanate a fragment's failing agriculture, yet when your luck is sour or the winds blow foul, can be scalding and acidic, eating away at anything left unsheltered.
The clouds constantly shift in colour, from a bright yellow that lights up your fragment making everything gleam, to somber crimsons that seem to suck the light from the world. In fact the glowing clouds above you are the only source of light in this world, and so here day and night is a product of meteorology, not astronomy.
Your family elders, lore keepers, or shamans (according to taste) teach that in the chaos of the storm is the cycle of creation and destruction that creates movement, action and life.
It has been noticed that those families whose fragments that drifted high, close to the clouds, came back down more impulsive and reckless, and legend tells of those who seemed to have carried a part of the storm back down with them, using chaos to twist nature according to their will.
In many cultures the tradition of Cloudwatching has formed, as people begin to realize that incoming storms, rains and more obscure events can be read from the patterns in the sky.