Rose and Red

On the fifth morning, the balloon drifted over valleys of pink and red stone. The first light made the rock glow like a rose. Even the pigeons flying below looked pink.

"A balloon has no wheel and no engine for turning," the pilot said. "We steer with the winds. Low winds go one way, high winds go another. We climb or sink to find the right one."

He let the balloon sink slowly into the red valley. The stone walls rose on both sides, close and warm. Polly stood on the edge of the basket, right between the great balloon and the glowing rock.

Then they climbed again, high above the land. Far away, a village stood around one huge rock full of carved rooms. "Uçhisar," said the pilot. "The old castle rock. From its top you can see this whole land."