![]() Rather, it was a question of its supporting too much life, too well. ![]() There was no question of the planet's ability to support life. Even the air had a pale green cast to it, so that looking through it one would seem to be staring through lenses cut from purest peridot. The mountains were green until they blended into green froth only at the heights did lichens battle with creeping ice as on most worlds waves warred with the land. Save for a few pockets of rancid blue, the oceans themselves were green from a surfeit of drifting plant life that nearly strangled the waters. ![]() Oh, it was a green so bright it had its own special niche in the spectrum of the impossible, a green pervasive, an everywhere-all-at-once, omnipotent green. From a soil base so rich it all but lived itself, a verdant magma spilled forth to inundate the land. Rather, on its surface life exploded, erupted, multiplied, and thrived beyond imagining. It lay supine in a sea of sibilant jet, a festering emerald in the universe-ocean. ![]() Midworld Alan Dean Foster Del Rey ISBN: 0-3453-5011-1Ĭhapter One World with no name. ![]()
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