This reminds me of some early landscape paintings I saw in the Prado (artist?) where there are people whose faces are just one jot of oilpaint. I think it is part of the sense of adventure that is inherent in landscape, to my way of thinking. I see the same thing in L. S. Lowry's cityscapes. Maybe this will inspire some of our short story writers because a real sense of adventure is something rare and precious. Please don't fake it or think "generic". There is a sense of adventure, for example, in the stories of Annie Proulx and Maile Meloy - a combination of landscape and I don't know what.
Ossian
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