fanoldhulk,whosewoodenribsstoodoutweirdlyliketheskeletonofsomehugesea-beast.Andthenallroundwasthelonelysea,withneverashipnorafishing-smackinsight.Inwinteritwasasifaspiritofsolitude,likeamysticshroud,haddescendedupontheshoreanduponthedesertwaters.
Then,inthemelancholy,inthedreariness,Berthafoundasubtlefascination.Theskywasathreateningheavycloud,lowdownandthewindtorealongshouting,screaming,andwhistling:therewaspanicintheturbulentsea,murkyandyellow,andthewavesleapedup,oneattheother’sheels,andbeatdownonthebeachwithanangryroar.Itwasdesolate,desolatetheseawassomercilessthattheverysightappalledone:itwasawrathfulpower,beatingforwards,everwrathfullybeatingforwards,roaringwithpainwhenthechainsthatbounditwrencheditbackandaftereachdesperateeffortitshrankwithayellofanguish.Andtheseagullsswayedabovethewavesintheirmelancholyflight,risingandfallingwiththewind.
Berthalovedalsothecalmofwinter,whenthesea-mistandthemistofheavenwereonewhentheseawassilentandheavy,andthesolitarygullflewscreechingoverthegraywaters,screechingmournfully.Shelovedthecalmofsummerwhentheskywascloudlessandinfinite.Thenshespentlonghours,lyingatthewater’sedge,delightedwiththesolitudeandwithherabsolutepeace.Thesea,placidasalake,unmovedbythelightestripple,wasalooking-glassreflectingthegloryofheavenanditturnedtofirewhenthesunsankinthewestitwasaseaofmoltencopper,red,brilliant,sothattheeyesweredazzled.Atroopofseagullssleptonthewaterandtherewerehundredsofthem,motionlessandsilentonearosenowandthen,andflewforamomentwithheavywing,andsankdown,andallwasstill.
OncethecoolnesswassotemptingthatBerthacouldnotresistit.Timidly,rapidly,sheslippedoffherclothesandlookingroundtoseethattherewasreallynooneinsight,steppedin.Thewaveletsaboutherfeetmadehershiveralittle,andthenwithasplash,stretchingoutherarms,sheranforward,andhalffell,halfdivedintothewater.Nowitwasdelightfulsherejoicedinthefreedomofherlimbs,foritwasanunknownpleasuretoswimunhamperedbycostume.Itgaveafinesenseofpower,andthesaltwater,lappingroun