This morning, I have finished rereading Poul Anderson's Harvest The Fire. Today, while the sky is blue, I will walk, then swim. Tomorrow I might start to reread Anderson's TheFleet Of Stars, unless a long awaited novel by SM Stirling at last arrives by post.
Proserpina is one of Anderson's most imaginative creations. Venator says that it is always night there but the Proserpinans carve vast colorful habitats inside this large asteroid and can simulate a sky on a ceiling. Jesse Nicol, dissatisfied in the Inner Solar System, goes to Proserpina to become one of their poets.