The path wanders west from the coast across flowering meadows aburst with the joyful melodies of finches and larks, through soaring stands of beech and elm, over verdant hills and rosy dales, until coming at last under the spreading eaves of the Wildwood and disappearing within.

A shining saucer-shaped craft rises from the floor of the valley just ahead with a soft electric hum as you approach. It rises serenely above the hills . . . and swiftly vanishes into the blue, leaving only a tingly static in the morning air.