the spirit of place and other essays-第15章

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the　light。　　The　trees　show　you　a　shadow　for　every　leaf；　and　the

poplars　are　sprinkled　upon　the　shining　sky　with　little　shadows　that

look　translucent。　　The　liveliness　of　every　shadow　is　that　some　light

is　reflected　into　it；　shade　and　shine　have　been　entangled　as　though

by　some　wild　wind　through　their　million　molecules。



The　coolness　and　the　dark　of　night　are　interlocked　with　the

unclouded　sun。　　Turn　sunward　from　the　north；　and　shadows　come　to

life；　and　are　themselves　the　life；　the　action；　and　the　transparence

of　their　day。



To　eyes　tired　and　retired　all　day　within　lowered　blinds；　the　light

looks　still　and　changeless。　　So　many　squares　of　sunshine　abide　for

so　many　hours；　and　when　the　sun　has　circled　away　they　pass　and　are

extinguished。　　Him　who　lies　alone　there　the　outer　world　touches　less

by　this　long　sunshine　than　by　the　haste　and　passage　of　a　shadow。

Although　there　may　be　no　tree　to　stand　between　his　window　and　the

south；　and　although　no　noonday　wind　may　blow　a　branch　of　roses

across　the　blind；　shadows　and　their　life　will　be　carried　across　by　a

brilliant　bird。



To　the　sick　man　a　cloud…shadow　is　nothing　but　an　eclipse；　he　cannot

see　its　shape；　its　color；　its　approach；　or　its　flight。　　It　does　but

darken　his　window　as　it　darkens　the　day；　and　is　gone　again；　he　does

not　see　it　pluck　and　snatch　the　sun。　　But　the　flying　bird　shows　him

wings。　　What　flash　of　light　could　be　more　bright　for　him　than　such　a

flash　of　darkness？



It　is　the　pulse　of　life；　where　all　change　had　seemed　to　be　charmed。

If　he　had　seen　the　bird　itself　he　would　have　seen　lessthe　bird's

shadow　was　a　message　from　the　sun。



There　are　two　separated　flights　for　the　fancy　to　follow；　the　flight

of　the　bird　in　the　air；　and　the　flight　of　its　shadow　on　earth。　　This

goes　across　the　window　blind；　across　the　wood；　where　it　is　astray

for　a　while　in　the　shades；　it　dips　into　the　valley；　growing　vaguer

and　larger；　runs；　quicker　than　the　wind；　uphill；　smaller　and　darker

on　the　soft　and　dry　grass；　and　rushes　to　meet　its　bird　when　the　bird

swoops　to　a　branch　and　clings。



In　the　great　bird　country　of　the　north…eastern　littoral　of　England；

about　Holy　Island　and　the　basaltic　rocks；　the　shadows　of　the　high

birds　are　the　movement　and　the　pulse　of　the　solitude。　　Where　there

are　no　woods　to　make　a　shade；　the　sun　suffers　the　brilliant　eclipse

of　flocks　of　pearl…white　sea　birds；　or　of　the　solitary　creature

driving　on　the　wind。　　Theirs　is　always　a　surprise　of　flight。　　The

clouds　go　one　way；　but　the　birds　go　all　ways：　　in　from　the　sea　or

out；　across　the　sands；　inland　to　high　northern　fields；　where　the

crops　are　late　by　a　month。　　They　fly　so　high　that　though　they　have

the　shadow　of　the　sun　under　their　wings；　they　have　the　light　of　the

earth　there　also。　　The　waves　and　the　coast　shine　up　to　them；　and

they　fly　between　lights。



Black　flocks　and　white　they　gather　their　delicate　shadows　up；　〃swift

as　dreams；〃　at　the　end　of　their　flight　into　the　clefts；　platforms；

and　ledges　of　harbourless　rocks　dominating　the　North　Sea。　　They

subside　by　degrees；　with　lessening　and　shortening　volleys　of　wings

and　cries　until　there　comes　the　general　shadow　of　night　wherewith

the　little　shadows　close；　complete。



The　evening　is　the　shadow　of　another　flight。　　All　the　birds　have

traced　wild　and　innumerable　paths　across　the　mid…May　earth；　their

shadows　have　fled　all　day　faster　than　her　streams；　and　have

overtaken　all　the　movement　of　her　wingless　creatures。　　But　now　it　is

the　flight　of　the　very　earth　that　carries　her　clasped　shadow　from

the　sun。







Footnotes：



｛1｝　　I　found　it　afterwards：　　it　was　Rebecca。









End