The Lunar Patrol stood looking down into the valley. Wind mills and water mills stretched as far as the eye could see which was not to the horizon because there wasn't one or was there? People (for there are no men and women in the Orlanthi just non-men and non-women) where doing odd things. There were people jumping along tree tops, non-men with sensible trousers were running up cliffs, other non-men were dancing naked amongst the barley. Non-women where pulling some sort of parchment and wood construction through colliding with others air swimming along as if in water. With the clatter of the mills, the blowing of horns, pipes and flutes and wind chimes clanging it is wonder that they could communicate with each other. But none spoke without yelling so it did not seem to matter. With all the bellowing it was hard to tell people from cattle. 'What's he doing?' said one of the patrol. All turned to watch a non-woman in a non-skirt jumping and leaping among some regularly patterned standing stones expelling air out of his arse in some sort of rhythm. 'Must be some sort of religious ceremony' said another. 'nah couldn't' be said the leader, 'you would need a big city for that' and with that they left.