Here the world boundaries are marked by the shots. The only living creatures are kites and whirling clouds. Everything is in the air and it seems to follow trajectories and laws of motion that we, Martian spectators, clearly "extracelestial", cannot understand. Since we come from another planet. Planet Earth.

Freedom seems total there. Kites; that's the only name we have to describe them; they resemble very much the games we used in our childhood, yet of course they are something else.

They travel and remember what they have been and this memory makes them bounce in the part of the sky they are occupying; but then, there where everything is sky, is it correct to call it sky?

Kites change into something else with the passing of time: but there, in that world, is time a sequence of seconds? Is time passing by?
Maybe they just transform themselves. of course changes occur, but not like our years, like our earth's age. They are instead reverberations of the sun differently bright; only chance and already gone shadings of clouds.

Actually, it seems we can catch sight of something very similar to Earth: yet the sun plays strange tricks, the stretch of water of a lake and slopes around generates a rose-coloured light that seems to burst into flame, so beautiful that we doubt it is really our earth. But then, suddenly, the veil raises: they are not images of another world; they come from here, from us, from the earth.