After a tough day’s work, nothing is extra refreshing than a quiet walk along the shore of the sea. While the exercise is nice for our our bodies, the presence of the ocean appears to have a peculiarly tranquillizing affect upon our minds. Every sight and sound evokes a spirit of rest and peacefulness; and the effect is enhanced by the absence of the sights and sounds to which we’ve been uncovered throughout the day. It is a pleasant change, after escaping from the noisy bustle of our daily work, to hear the ceaseless music of the waves, and to breathe the contemporary sea-breezes as a substitute of the vitiated environment of workplace or class-room.
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During our walk along the margin of the ocean we benefit from the view of the broad expanse of waters spread out earlier than our eyes, an unfailing source of delight to anybody capable of appreciating the beauties of nature. For the ocean in all its changeful moods never ceases to be beautiful, and is particularly stunning at the hour of sunset.
The spectacle offered by the setting solar, as it sinks beneath the ocean wave, is one of the greatest charms of an evening walk by the seashore.
In India, for the greater part of the 12 months, the clouds, whose fantastic shapes and brilliant hues add so much to the good thing about an English sunset, are wanting. But even in a cloudless sky when “the broad solar is sinking down, in his tranquility” and “the gentleness of heavens on the sea,” the spectacle presented to the eye is crammed with claim beauty.
For some time after the sun has set, the sky is suffused with delicate tints of colour, until the primary stars begin to seem on its darkening surface, and day finally offers place to night. In the start and the top of the monsoon we have splendid specimens of cloudy sundown, corresponding to surpass the most vivid description given by English poets, and would, if faithfully depicted on canvas, be condemned as exaggerated representations of nature. At this time of 12 months, whereas the night sky remains to be of an intense blue, the clouds are tinged with gold, and purple, and all the colours of the rainbow, and the ocean beneath repeats the good coloring of the sky and the clouds above.
From such a revelation of the beauties of nature the poor man derives as much pleasure as the choicest collection of paintings and sculptures and different artworks affords to the millionaire. Indeed, when we look with reverent awe upon the ocean and sky on the hour of sunset, it does not seem unusual to us that the good powers of nature had been once worshipped as gods; and the tranquillizing effect that the sea, particularly in the night, has upon the spectator, enables us to know how the ancients found it pure to go to the shore and pour out their sorrows to the ocean, when the hearts had been overburdened with care and no mortal being appeared able to giving comfort. Wordsworth, the nice English poet, felt and beautifully expressed this in his sonnet beginning.
“The world is too much with us,” during which he mourned the truth that most people had lost the facility of appreciating the good thing about nature, by giving themselves as much as enterprise and worldly pleasure “late and shortly, Getting and spending we lay waste our powers.” He ends with this passionate outburst of desire for the old Greek love and reverence for nature. “Great God! I’d quite be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn, so may I, standing on this nice lea, Have glimpses that might make me much less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.”