Of browns and reds and yellows, like an autumn forest, was the foliage, with here and there patches of dark-green, as of conifers.

Five miles or more, on each side, the forests swept, and then were lost to sight in the haze.
I turned and faced an immensity of crimson waters, unbroken, a true sea, if ever there was one.

A breeze blew--the first real wind I had encountered in the hidden places; under it the surface, that had been as molten lacquer, rippled and dimpled.

Little waves broke with a spray of rose-pearls and rubies.

The giant Medusae drifted--stately, luminous kaleidoscopic elfin moons.
Far down, peeping around a jutting tower of the cliff, I saw dipping with the motion of the waves a floating garden.