The reader is immediately immersed in Beston's world, in his little house on Eastham Beach on Cape Cod, surrounded by dunes and water. I could quote extensively, as there are so many lovely passages, some so breath-taking I had to stop and re-read them. Here's an example from the last chapter:
"And because I had known this outer and secret world, and been able to live as I had lived, reverence and gratitude greater and deeper than ever possessed me, sweeping every emotion else aside, and space and silence an instant closed together over life. Then time gathered again like a cloud, and presently the stars began to pale over an ocean still dark with remembered night."
"An ocean still dark with remembered night" - how beautiful. I have never read such lyrical, and realistic, descriptions of the sea: its sounds, smells, look, and life.
And way back in 1926, when he stayed there, oil spills occurred, harming the wildlife. How disturbing and appalling that we still haven't solved that problem today.
Someone once told me -- or I read somewhere -- that people are either "mountain" people or "ocean" people. "Mountain" people are supposedly quieter, more inward, loners; "ocean" people more gregarious and open. I'm not sure I agree with the personality part of that, but I know I'm more drawn to the ocean. I love to sit and watch the waves, the birds, to walk the beach and smell the ocean air. The ocean always makes me ponder the immensity of the world, what lies behind its horizons, and to think about the strangeness of life. I'm sure mountains spark those thoughts as well, but I'd rather think on these things while listening to the ocean's breath. And I'd rather eat fish than venison!
This book will be a perfect segue into Mark Kurlansky's The Last Fish Tale
, about life in Gloucester, Mass.
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