Homesickness [antikvár]

Strange sensation then (August 26). To finally have the turbines cut, metallic whistle dying in the ear, and that drumming of the horizontal holding them to their seats like a hand, replaced by solid upright pressure, relatíve silence, of earth. They sat becalmed, benumbed. The hum and vibration remained within them, and would for somé hours. For the time being they felt more like gazing than looking. Chins rested on hands. Out there all around was concrete, colour of tarpaulins, stained with fuel. This canary-yellow tractor of obscene squatness came crawling towards them. It had a canvas canopy. The local people were going about their work; they took their time. The driver wore khaki and drove one hand. Chins rested on hands. A majority of the party had flown long distance before; but it was always strange. The immediate end result was strange. Out there lay the beginnings of the foreign country known through hearsay (.heresy) and photography, its name and persistent shape on the map. There was plenty to see; any minute now. Yet each one felt unable or reluctant to grasp the first impressions. It was as if their bodies had arrived-vaguely they were aware of that-but feelings for time and place were still back at the point of departure or at somé point along their flight path; and who can say whether these ever catch up? Strips of turf and grey, those browns: several dozen browns out there. Oblong cream patch to the left and the obiigatory silver roof, and another, hooped. Blurred purple undulating beyond, creased, földed like dropped cloth, and tunnelling cumuli just above it. It's a clear day. Yet the lragments, static and commonplace, are stationed far apart. It's a mosaic-slabs broken, separated. Soon it would become a slowly moving fresco, clarifying, but with certain