SEA, SKY, AND DOWN. 



IN the cloudless January sky the sun at noonday 

 appears high above the southern horizon, and there is 

 a broad band of sky between it and the line of the sea. 

 This sense of the sun's elevation is caused by the level 

 plain of water, which affords no contrast Inland the 

 hills rise up, and even at midday the sun in winter does 

 not seem much above their ridges. But here by the 

 shore the sun hangs high, and does not look as if he 

 descended so low in his winter curve. There is little 

 wind, and the wavelets swing gently rather than roll, 

 illumined both in their hollows and on their crests 

 with a film of silver. Three or four miles away a 

 vessel at anchor occasionally sways, and at each move- 

 ment flashes a bright gleam from her wet side like a 

 mirror. White gulls hawk to and fro by the strand, 

 darting on floating fragments and rising again ; their 

 plumage is snowy white in the sunshine. Brown nets 

 lie on the pebbles ; brown nets are stretched from the 

 mastheads of the smacks to the sea-wall ; brown and 

 deeply wrinkled sails are hoisted to dry in the sun 

 and air. The broad red streaks on the smacks' sides 

 stand out distinctly among the general pitchy hues 

 of gunwales and great coils of rope. Men in dull 



