The sea grows dark
and rough, and white horses appear here and there.
But the storm is soon over. The clouds break, the rain stops, the sun
shines once more, the hills opposite come out again. They are divided now
not only into fields and woods, but into sunshine and shadow. The sky
clears, and as the sun begins to descend westwards the sea becomes one
beautiful clear uniform azure, changing again soon to pale blue in front
and dark violet beyond: and once more as clouds begin to gather again,
into an archipelago of bright blue sea and deep islands of ultramarine. As
the sun travels westward, the opposite hills change again. They scarcely
seem like the same country. What was in sun is now in shade, and what was
in shade now lies bright in the sunshine. The sea once more becomes a
uniform solid blue, only flecked in places by scuds of wind, and becoming
paler towards evening as the sun sinks, the cliffs which catch his setting
rays losing their deep color and in some places looking almost as white as
chalk, while at sunset they light up again for a moment with a golden
glow, the sea at the same time sinking to a cold gray.
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