270 FRESH FIELDS 



the east. They were the piled, convoluted, indo- 

 lent clouds of midsummer, — thunder-clouds that 

 had retired from business; the captains of the 

 storm in easy undress. All day they filed along 

 there, keeping the ship company. How the eye 

 reveled in their definite, yet ever-changing, forms ! 

 Their under or base line was as straight and contin- 

 uous as the rim of the ocean. The substratum of 

 air upon which they rested was like a uniform layer 

 of granite rock, invisible, but all-resisting; not one 

 particle of these vast cloud-mountains, so broken 

 and irregular in their summits, sank below this 

 aerial granite boundary. The equilibrium of the 

 air is frequently such that the under-surface of the 

 clouds is like a ceiling. It is a fair-weather sign, 

 whether upon the sea or upon the land. One may 

 frequently see it in a mountainous district, when 

 the fog- clouds settle down, and blot out all the tops 

 of the mountains without one fleck of vapor going 

 below a given line which runs above every valley, 

 as uniform as the sea- level. It is probable that in 

 fair weather the atmosphere always lies in regular 

 strata in this way, and that it is the displacement 

 and mixing up of these by some unknown cause 

 that produces storms. 



As the sun neared the horizon these cloud-masses 

 threw great blue shadows athwart each other, which 

 afforded the eye a new pleasure. 



Late one afternoon the clouds assumed a still 

 more friendly and welcome shape. A long, purple, 

 irregular range of them rose up from the horizon in 



