IN THE DUNES 9 



Sometimes it seems suspended between sky and 

 sea. On days when the sea is dark blue and the 

 sky pale blue, fading to white at the horizon, dis- 

 tant shores and hulls of vessels often appear 

 lifted up, and a narrow ribbon of white sky 

 stretches beneath. 



All are familiar with the classical tale of mi- 

 rage in the desert, which simulates a lake of 

 water to the thirsty traveller. Several times I 

 have seen a similar mirage at Ipswich beach. 

 One was so perfect that I was completely de- 

 ceived, and wondered how this lake of calm, un- 

 ruffled water could have sprung up over night in 

 the expanse of sand. The illusion was intensi- 

 fied by some gulls who appeared to be wading 

 and swimming in the water. As I approached, 

 the lake receded and finally vanished. 



At night there is a gentle mystery and a sense 

 of primeval grandeur in the sand dunes that sur- 

 passes the mystery and the grandeur of the day. 

 It is good for the soul to escape from the conven- 

 tionalities of life and lose itself in darkness in 

 this waste of sand. Like a wolf, turning and 

 shaping his form in the grass before he lies down. 



