The narrator flies his "carplane" low over woods and meadows:
"...the landscape...lay quietly in the evening, almost empty of man, a green fair breadth of land veined with bright rivers. The westering sun touched each leaf and grass blade with molten gold, an aureate glow which seemed to fill the cool air with a tangible presence, and I could hear the chirp and chatter of the great bird flocks as they settled down in the trees. Yes - it was good to get home." (p. 257)
But he will soon be restless. Meanwhile, we notice three senses yet again. Why are we glad that the landscape is almost empty of man?
1 comment:
Kaor, Paul!
But I still have my doubts about the PRACTICALITY of a nomadic culture living entirely within space ships if a FTL drive is available. It would seem far more likely that the really restless types would sign up as crewmen on merchant ships, become merchant explorers a la those of the Polesotechnic League, or enlist in a space navy.
Perhaps thoughts like also led to Anderson's increasing dissatisfaction with the Psychotechnic series?
Ad astra! Sean
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