Island, but was driven off by the terns who were nesting. ... The
billows of the wind today mingled in me with the sands and the tide,
so that I experienced from a new angle Landor's "We are what suns and
winds and waters make us." ...


July 9.

My life will see much traveling.


July 10.

Morning on the dunes. A cold clear bath while mists drove over the
sands. Returning home, as I came to the deep sand on the road, I
perceived the mystery of the resurrection of the body. In death there
is no physical decay. The singing planets of the human body merely
part to combine in other songs, recurring again in the end to their
old disposal and song, exchanging other worlds for their own once
more, and recurring to the first motif of the symphony. I was sad this
afternoon for the will failed me in my work. Sitting on the sand this
morning the singing dunes had attained to the harmony of silence. All
at once a little wisp of seaweed--hardly more than a thread--started
to beat time upon the sands. And then I knew and saw it to be in its
happy beating the pulse that governed the music of the stars. Can the
heart conduct the symphony of the body? Tonight the sun set, borne
away--a Grail--by angels from the questing Galahad. There was a great
silence in my heart as I sat in the crowded room.