130 



THE OPAL SEA 



Winds 

 along the 

 Channel 

 and the 

 North Sea. 



Everything 

 driven off 

 the water. 



Storm on 

 the coast of 

 Holland. 



respect and fear. The winds usually find a 

 trough of low pressure along this waterway to 

 the North Sea, and rush through it with great 

 fury. Sometimes for days at a time they 

 blow, carrying with them low clouds torn into 

 fragments, driving ahead of them spin-drift 

 ripped from the surface of the water, and send- 

 ing the rain flying in lines with an almost flat 

 trajectory. In such blows everything living 

 or movable is driven off the water. The 

 packets cease running, the sailing vessels seek 

 harbor, the wild ducks fly inland to the quieter 

 bays and harbors; and even the sea gulls and 

 curlews will be found back on the English 

 meadows, each one squatting behind a tuft of 

 grass or a little knoll of ground, taking the 

 wind and rain with a diagonal slant of body 

 from head to tail, and riding out the storm as 

 best he can. 



As you come down from the interior to the 

 dunes of Holland in such a storm the effect 

 is weird, almost unearthly. The light is gray, 

 the clouds are blown to pieces, the sweep of the 

 wind is terrific. Flying sand cuts and stings 

 the face, it is difficult to stand upright for the 

 wind; and to escape it you are glad to avail 

 yourself of any hollow in the hills — a hollow 

 perhaps under some dyke with the sound of 



