per, as the slithering blades bend before the gale. 

 Then it is that you will observe the most abject 

 of its moods; during the force of the blast, the 

 expanse flattens itself as if in fear, it loses its cast 

 of green and turns to gray; and with the passing 

 of the squall its countenance reflects the corpse- 

 like color of the clearing sky ... a color which 

 is heightened to the glow of glaucus-gold when 

 finally the setting sun breaks through the storm- 

 rack and catches the leveled reeds in its slanting 

 rays . . . 



Much of the marsh soil — in fact, most of it — is 

 mud. None the less, the charm of a single summer 

 morning spent at low tide among its many arcaded 

 creeks and tiny winding waterways is inexpres- 

 sible, something never to be forgotten. Few places 

 so close to the haunts of man offer a retreat as se- 

 cluded, as seemingly remote. It is a world peopled 

 with beings as utterly removed from the ordinary 

 ken as might be those that are popularly, but mis- 

 takenly, conceived to exist on the planet Mars. 



Part of this strange population is indigenous; 

 that is to say, the millions of mussels attached to 

 the exposed roots of the reedy growth surmounting 

 the overhanging banks, and the vastly more nu- 



[3H] 



