The ruins of a flaming sunset lay above the distant ridges when Julius
left my room, and, after locking away the private papers entrusted to
my charge, I stood for some time watching the coloured storm-clouds
hurrying across the sky. For, though the trees about the châlet were
motionless, a violent wind ran high overhead, and on the summits it
would have been impossible to stand. Round the building, however,
sunken in its protected valley, and within the walls especially,
reigned a still, delightful peace. The wind kept to the summits. But
of some Spirit of Wind I was aware long before the faintest movement
touched a single branch.
Upon me then, gathering with steady power, stole the advance-guard of
these two invasions--air and warmth, yet an inner air, an inner warmth.
For, while I watched, the silence of those encircling forests conveyed
the sound and movement of approaching life. There grew upon me, first
as by dim and curious suggestion, a sense of ordered preparation
slowly accumulating behind the mass of shadowy trees. The picture
then sharpened into more definite outline. The forest was busy with
the stirrings of a million thread-like airs that built up together
the body of a rising wind, yet not of wind as commonly experienced,
but rather of some subtler, more acute activity of which wind is but
the outer vehicle. The inner activity, of which it is the sensible
manifestation--the body--was beginning to move. The soul of air itself
was stirring. These million ghost-like airs were lifting wings from
their invisible, secret lairs, all running as by a word of command
towards a determined centre whence, obeying a spiritual summons, they
would presently fall upon the valley in that sensible manifestation
called the equinoctial gales. Behind the material effect, the spiritual
Cause was active.
This imaginative picture grew upon me, as though in some way I was
let into the inner being of that life which prompts all natural
movements and hides, securely veiled, in every stock and stone. A new
interpretative centre was awake in me. In the movement of wind I was
aware of--life. Then, while this subtle perception that an intelligent,
directing power lay behind the very air I breathed, a similar report
reached me from another, equally elemental, quarter, though it is less
easy to describe.
From the sun? Originally, yes--since primarily from the sun emerges
all the heat the earth contains. It first stirred definite sensation
in me when my eye caught the final gleam upon the turreted walls of
vapour where still the sunset stood emblazoned. From that coloured sea
of light, and therefore of heat, something flashed in power through
me; a vision of running fire broke floodingly above the threshold of
my mind, ran into every corner of my being, left its inspiring trail,
became part of my very nerves and blood. Consciousness was deepened and
intensified.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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