Like the Simoom of the Desert 15 



that promises to be fine. From the brow here, you may 

 note a solitary cloud just risen above the horizon ; it floats 

 slowly toward us ; presently it divides into several parts ; 

 these, again, fall away in jagged, irregular pieces like 

 flecks of foam. By the time it has reached the zenith 

 these flecks have lengthened out, and shortly afterwards 

 the cloud has entirely melted and is gone. The delicate 

 hue, the contrast of the fleecy white with the deepest 

 azure, the ever-changing form, the light shining through 

 the gauzy texture, the gentle dreamy motion, lend these 

 clouds an exquisite beauty. 



After a while the faint breeze increases, but changes in 

 character ; it blows steadily, and the ' sish sish ' of the 

 bennets as it rushes through them becomes incessant. A 

 sense of oppression weighs on the chest in the midst of 

 the wind, on the verge of the hill, you sigh for a breath of 

 air. This is not air : it is simply heat in motion. It is 

 like the simoom of the desert producing a feeling of 

 intense weariness. Previously the distant ridges of the 

 downs were shaded by a dim haze hovering over them, 

 toning the rolling curves and softening the bolder bluffs. 

 Now they become distinct ; each line is drawn clearly and 

 stands out ; the definition is like that which occurs before 

 rain, only without the illusion of nearness. 



But the hot wind blows and the rain does not come : 

 the sky is open and free from clouds, less blue perhaps, 

 but harder in tint. The nights are bright and clear and 

 warm ; you may sit here on the turf till midnight and find 

 no dew, and still feel the languid, enervating influence of 

 the hot blast. This goes in time, and is succeeded by 

 heavy morning mists hanging like a cloak over the hills 

 and filling up the hollows. They roll away as the day 

 advances, and there is the sun bright as ever in the midst 



