Winds drift gently across the surface. The black of half-hidden mountains and hills is submerged beneath the red of an unfamiliar landscape. The gold of the mountains nearest the viewer seems to shine; indeed, it does shine. Is their gold in them thar hills? I think that must be so. The red brings to mind the Red Planet – Mars – in all it’s glory. The fantasy recedes. One’s mind turns to more prosaic matters; back to drifting winds.