THE BEACH IN WINTER 235 



than its fellows and rushes across the spiked timbers, 

 threatening all obstructions with its weapons of loose 

 ice. Such a spectacle imitated painfully and incom- 

 pletely in tinsel would draw crowds of spectators. 

 But the lighthouse pier, the grand theatre of the 

 storm, where the only penalty is the bruises of the 

 icicled life-line and the wet of the breaking and 

 encircling waves, is alone and deserted* The storm- 

 loving Gulls call in shrill exhilaration, poising almost 

 motionless, defiantly breasting the pressure or 

 steadily rising to turn and curve swiftly downward 

 with the aerial current. One sign of life is ridiculous 

 in its insignificance. A Rat comes out from the snow 

 banked about a willow beside the dock, but in 

 surprise at seeing a traditional enemy abroad, returns 

 quickly to his shelter, leaving the imprint of his brief 

 excursion in the packed drift. While the elements 

 rage and the force of the storm is spent on the resisting 

 shore this little atom of life is making its way and 

 doing its part in the incomprehensible scheme of a 

 universe of wonders. 



