Over the gloomy sea the sky grew red.

Quickly the fire spread among the clouds and scattered them.

Crimson burned to orange, orange to dull gold, and in a golden glitter the sun came up, dribbling fierily over the waves in little splashes, as if someone had gone along and the light had spilled from her pail as she walked.
The breakers ran down the shore in long, hoarse strokes.

Tiny seagulls, like specks of spray, wheeled above the line of surf.

Their crying seemed larger than they.