PEACE

It had been such a warm day. Toward sunset do you remember how we stole away to the beach and after driving for some time we finally came to the dunes, got out of the motor and walked the rest of the way? I can remember now how white the sand was and how our feet sank in it and, when we drew them out again it seemed to cover our tracks leaving hardly any impression behind us. I remember also how the long reeds sprang up and almost hid you from view; then we began to climb the dunes and all out of breath we reached the top, and there below us lay the beach, and the ocean spreading out from it as far as we could see. I recall catching my breath as I always do when I again perceive the ocean after having been away from it. It always seems to fill me with such inexhaustible wonder and pours into my soul a peculiar strength and power to go on with the dull and terrible things of life ... forcing me to finish and, at the end, to conquer them. I can see now the blueness of the water and feel again the great stillness that seemed to be about us. Over our left shoulder back of us lay the inlet, with the sun shining on it and causing it to dazzle like a steel needle; and the long thin white beach—like a golden thread—stretching from it and finally seeming to trail off to nothing and burying itself in the foam of the sea. Do you remember how we lay there for ever so long and neither of us said a word? Finally the sun went down and we watched the sand change from gold to red; the sky became violet with little shadings of green and pink and then suddenly—as if by magic—the ocean became quite calm and a fascinating little star appeared reflecting and twinkling on the inlet. Back on the main land we watched the little lights of the houses come out one by one; in the twilight at first they were very faint and pale, but after as the night stooped down and crept upon us, they grew brighter and stronger. And then for the first time you broke the silence; turning to me you asked, “What are you feeling?” I answered, “Peace.”