THE BEACH IN WINTER 
235 
than its fellows and rushes across the spiked timbers, 
threatening all obstructions with its weapons of loose 
ice. Such a spectacle imitated painfully and incom- 
pletely in tinsel would draw crowds of spectators. 
But the lighthouse pier, the grand theatre of the 
storm, where the only penalty is the bruises of the 
icicled life-line and the wet of the breaking and 
encircling waves, is alone and deserted. The storm- 
loving Gulls call in shrill exhilaration, poising almost 
motionless, defiantly breasting the pressure or 
steadily rising to turn and curve swiftly downward 
with the aerial current. One sign of life is ridiculous 
in its insignificance. A Rat comes out from the snow 
banked about a willow beside the dock, but in 
surprise at seeing a traditional enemy abroad, returns 
quickly to his shelter, leaving the imprint of his brief 
excursion in the packed drift. While the elements 
rage and the force of the storm is spent on the resisting 
shore this little atom of life is making its way and 
doing its part in the incomprehensible scheme of a 
universe of wonders. 
