Above this
margin the sand is not wet, and grows less and less damp the farther
towards the bank you keep. In some places your footstep is perfectly
implanted, showing the whole shape, and the square toe, and every nail in
the heel of your boot. Elsewhere, the impression is imperfect, and even
when you stamp, you cannot imprint the whole. As you tread, a dry spot
flashes around your step, and grows moist as you lift your foot again.
Pleasant to pass along this extensive walk, watching the surf-wave;--how
sometimes it seems to make a feint of breaking, but dies away
ineffectually, merely kissing the strand; then, after many such abortive
efforts, it gathers itself, and forms a high wall, and rolls onward,
heightening and heightening without foam at the summit of the green line,
and at last throws itself fiercely on the beach, with a loud roar, the
spray flying above. As you walk along, you are preceded by a flock of
twenty or thirty beach birds, which are seeking, I suppose, for food on
the margin of the surf, yet seem to be merely sporting, chasing the sea
as it retires, and running up before the impending wave.
Pages:
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139