They were of the bitter, hard, persistent sort, that
interferes with sight and respiration, and makes the eyes sore. Even
such winds as these have their own merit in proper time and place.
It is pleasant to see them brandish great masses of shadow. And what
a power they have over the colour of the world! How they ruffle the
solid woodlands in their passage, and make them shudder and whiten
like a single willow! There is nothing more vertiginous than a wind
like this among the woods, with all its sights and noises; and the
effect gets between some painters and their sober eyesight, so that,
even when the rest of their picture is calm, the foliage is coloured
like foliage in a gale. There was nothing, however, of this sort to
be noticed in a country where there were no trees and hardly any
shadows, save the passive shadows of clouds or those of rigid houses
and walls. But the wind was nevertheless an occasion of pleasure;
for nowhere could you taste more fully the pleasure of a sudden lull,
or a place of opportune shelter. The reader knows what I mean; he
must remember how, when he has sat himself down behind a dyke on a
hillside, he delighted to hear the wind hiss vainly through the
crannies at his back; how his body tingled all over with warmth, and
it began to dawn upon him, with a sort of slow surprise, that the
country was beautiful, the heather purple, and the far-away hills all
marbled with sun and shadow.
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