The sea
coast is always interesting. When we think of the cliff sections with
their histories of bygone ages; the shore itself teeming with seaweeds and
animals, waiting for the return of the tide, or thrown up from deeper
water by the waves; the weird cries of seabirds; the delightful feeling
that with every breath we are laying in a store of fresh life, and health,
and energy, it is impossible to over-estimate all we owe to the sea.
It is, moreover, always changing. We went for our holiday this year to
Lyme Regis. Let me attempt to describe the changes in the view from our
windows during a single day. Our sitting-room opened on to a little lawn,
beyond which the ground drops suddenly to the sea, while over about two
miles of water were the hills of the Dorsetshire coast--Golden Cap, with
its bright crest of yellow sand, and the dark blue Lias Cliff of Black
Ven. When I came early down in the morning the sun was rising opposite,
shining into the room over a calm sea, along an avenue of light; by
degrees, as it rose, the whole sea was gilt with light, and the hills
bathed in a violet mist.
Pages:
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283