142 MY DEVON YEAR 



touched it, and it waned gloriously in a rosy glow 

 against the increasing blue of the sky ; while from its 

 depths stole Exe to the sea ; and I saw red cliffs and 

 marble beaches and fishers with bright sails setting 

 forth into an ocean of light. 



Within the arm of my sand-dunes extend spaces 

 that only vanish at highest tides ; and here, in 

 shining plantations decked with shells, grow the 

 glassworts. Their lower joints are often a radiant 

 scarlet and lemon, and rise above rich store of sea- 

 weeds, brought by successive tides. These are flat- 

 tened out upon the mud into a mosaic of ruby-red, 

 amber, transparent white, and deep green, all laced 

 and slashed and gemmed with ribbons of olive-brown 

 and sepia, or stars of orange and pearl. In drier 

 regions, where barriers rise or dykes drain the water, 

 sea-lavenders bring to earth the glory of foreign skies, 

 and their hues mingle with the rushes and the heather 

 of the higher levels. Shining mud-flats are one 

 background to this blaze of purple ; while sand- 

 dunes and glimpses of foam-fringed waters hem in the 

 marshes towards the sea. 



The sand, as I have said, reveals all manner of 

 rare shades in direct sunshine, and over its yellow 

 undertone prevails a delicate, gauzy hue that par- 

 takes of mauve in one light, of grey in another. 

 These spaces are virgin since the last patter of rain 

 pitted them ; but where a foot falls, the dream-colour 

 departs and yellow shines out until time weathers 

 the exposed grains again. The mat-grass binds all 



