Imagine. Above is an ocean of air. We stand on the bed of the ocean and see the surface dappled with moonlight, a thin surface of the ocean that hides behind it an eternity of starlight. Through the ocean vast whale clouds travel, dark against the silvered surface, shadows. Closer, aerymice shriek their song in the stillness, high and sweet, hunting the late moths, winged feasts for hungry bats. Across the fields heavy horses call into the night. The air is still. Sound travels. And over all this she rides splendid, bone white, silvered moon. Almost full, but her shadows dampened by a silk thin cloak of cloud.