Волны

           Meanwhile,letusabolishthetickingoftime’sclockwithoneblow.Comecloser.’

           Thesunhadnowsunklowerinthesky.Theislandsofcloudhadgainedindensityanddrewthemselvesacrossthesunsothattherockswentsuddenlyblack,andthetremblingseahollylostitsblueandturnedsilver,andshadowswereblownlikegreyclothsoverthesea.Thewavesnolongervisitedthefurtherpoolsorreachedthedottedblacklinewhichlayirregularlyuponthebeach.Thesandwaspearlwhite,smoothedandshining.Birdsswoopedandcircledhighupintheair.Someracedinthefurrowsofthewindandturnedandslicedthroughthemasiftheywereonebodycutintoathousandshreds.Birdsfelllikeanetdescendingonthetree-tops.Hereonebirdtakingitswayalonemadewingforthemarshandsatsolitaryonawhitestake,openingitswingsandshuttingthem.

           Somepetalshadfalleninthegarden.Theylayshell-shapedontheearth.Thedeadleafnolongerstooduponitsedge,buthadbeenblown,nowrunning,nowpausing,againstsomestalk.Throughalltheflowersthesamewaveoflightpassedinasuddenflauntandflashasifafincutthegreenglassofalake.Nowandagainsomelevelandmasterlyblastblewthemultitudinousleavesupanddownandthen,asthewindflagged,eachbladeregaineditsidentity.Theflowers,burningtheirbrightdiscsinthesun,flungasidethesunlightasthewindtossedthem,andthensomeheadstooheavytoriseagaindroopedslightly.

           Theafternoonsunwarmedthefields,pouredblueintotheshadowsandreddenedthecorn.Adeepvarnishwaslaidlikealacqueroverthefields.