No; the true sea-lover knows
that there are terror and mystery and horror as well as joyousness in
the varied moods of the treacherous, remorseless, magnificent ocean.
Those who read this may see the unspeakable beauty of the opaline and
ruby tints that flame on the water when the sunset sinks behind the
Isle of Thanet. The bay at Westgate will shine like mother-of-pearl,
and the glassy rollers at the horizon will be incarnardined. That is a
splendid sight! Then those who are in Devon may pass sleepy days in
gazing on a vivid piercing blue that is pure and brilliant as the blue
of the Bay of Naples. In the lochs to the West of Scotland the
swarming tourists watch that riot of colour that marks the times of
sunrise and sunset. All these spectacles of suave magnificence are
imposing; but, for my own part, I love the grey water on the East
Coast, and I like the low level dunes where the bent grass gleams and
the sea-wind comes whispering "Forget!" All the gay days of the
holiday-places, all the gorgeous sunsets, the imperial noondays, the
solemn, glittering midnights are imposing, but the wise traveller
learns to see the beauty of all the moods of the wild changing sea.
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