From Fox's Earth 



net through to bring them to light, were as be- 

 wildering in abundance and beauty. One form I 

 remember. It is called after a Swedish naturalist. 

 So minute that it was only revealed to the naked 

 eye through a point of orange or crimson ; but 

 so great in number as to form a solid mass in the 

 net. Under the microscope these spots were 

 found encased in exquisite bells. 



What sunsets were there. The rainbow broken 

 and scattered on the clouds, the diffused glory 

 of haze spreading a flush of nameless hue over 

 voe and land and croft. The memory comes 

 back on a sigh ; the flush lingers on the spirit. 



Less sensational, but stranger and more 

 moving, was that which came after ; the light 

 that kept fading but never failed ; the scene that 

 kept vanishing but only softened its outlines : the 

 lingering northern twilight. The great trout 

 sailed up from the sea with the jellyfish ; they 

 leapt around the boat in the evening light ; they 

 played by the channels of hybrid lochs, which are 

 landlocked at the ebb, waiting to enter on the 

 flow. 



Birds twittered round the tent, where, with a 

 lingering of our southern habits, we were vainly 

 trying to find a softer place on our heather couch, 

 and get to sleep. One must be a Shetlander to 

 sleep in a northern twilight, just as one must be 

 a Shetlander to sit out the long winter dark to the 

 dim crusie flame. One can do little but doze in 



100 



