There is something very refreshing about the sunrise that correlated
very well with my present feeling of emancipation, for it is a symbol of
the new and fresh, and of the forgetting of the troubles of the past.
This was true in my case, at least, for I was soon carefree once more,
secure in my freedom. As the wind rushed across my body, I was relaxed
in my adopted element, air, though it was slightly difficult to keep
myself firmly on the glider, as I was lying unfastened to the tabletop.
Below me passed the ocean, looking generally the same as ever, though
paler and less alive, like a ghost of its former self, but still close
enough to bring the calm of reminiscing.
Soon even the ocean began to give way to the fast approaching mainland,
and I abandoned my restive meditations to solve the problem of how to
land. I had not made any contraptions for that purpose, having not
thought about it in the hurry to leave my prison. I decided to use a
traditional circling approach, in the same way scavenging birds descend
on their prey. When I was a mile or so inland, I began to circle about
in wide spirals, narrowing them as I drew closer to the ground. In this
way I had slowed down enough by the time I made contact with the ground
that neither I nor my craft was injured in the landing.
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