Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-09-30
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES E. TRACEwELL.

"reminiscences Of the seashore, car
ried in this column recently, struck q
popular chord, judging by the letters
received from readers.
The sea makes its appeal to all. It
is an elemental thing Surging in the
very heartbeat of humanity, this love
for the ocean.
The happy thing about it is that one
does not have to be sailor to love
the sea and all that belongs to it. A
physically timid person may love 1t az
well as the bravest mariner who eve
trod a deck.
The fascination which a we'll told sea
story has for the majority Of readers
proves our contention. Next to a good
love story, We do not believe that there
is any form of writing which Is likely to
have a greater appeal.
Some authors, such as Conrad and
Cooper, live solely because Of their
ability to put the ocean on paper. A
feat, thatl The reader hears the whistle
OF wind through riggings, learns that a
sheet" Is a rope, smells the fresh salt
air, all without stirring from his COM
Portable chair.
Herman Melville, whose stories enjoy
vogue now which they never had
reader aboard ship in chase Of the
great white whale, Moby Dick. Dana
enables the least ssaworthy to spend
years before the mast.
X X X
Those who serve up mental pictures
Of the seashore must be content with
more delicate fare. Sand dunes take
the place of mountainous waves. The
little people of the world love the
dunes. An ordinarily imaginative child
can turn an idle dune into palace, q
fairyland or modern rich mans island
estate, depending upon what he may
have CHANGED to read the day before.
The dunes which stretch along the
Maryland and New Jersey coasts about
city block behind the breakers are
exceptionally interesting creations of
nature. One may wonder just how the
sand begins to pile up into these fasci-
mating hills, these miniature mountains.
And always crested with sparsely
growing sea grass, which somehow man.
ages to draw nourishment out Of the
sand and air, the former sometimes dry,
sometimes wet; the latter always dlled
with moisture.
Even this rank grass has q salty,
clean smell, as everything has at the
Seashore. Those whose sensitive noses
sometimes resent the gas-filled air Of
the cities, with occasional whiffs from
LlluQeH llClIlGEHIOIb, IIIlu bIldJ Tic CledI1,
fresh, salt breezes from the ocean were
made for them.
y X
Standing on a dune, with ones hair
blowing violently, one may look out far
over the ocean; not much farther, it is
true, than If he stood on the beach. but
somehow the effect is of an increased
distance, both out and to the sides.
If the dune has hollow place at the
top, as many of them do, the enjoy
ment of the exploration is increased;
for here is a natural shield against the
incessant blowing Of the gale.
The dunes form around some clump
of vegetation. some old spar or wrecked
soap box. They have a movement, it is
said, of many feet a year, but the ordi-
nary observer would have to be ex-
tremely patient to catch it.
If one will drop down to the land
side of q dune, he will find complete
calm. He can see the salt grass wav-
ing violently at the top and bending
to the sand at the sides, but here all
is quiet. These contrasts help make up
the charm Of the seashore.