On a morning like this I can spend hours merely feasting my eyes upon this prospect, and I can find, if not happiness, the next best thing.

The world is full of beautiful places, but the strange part of it is that beauty has countless phases, and each phase differs in some subtle and unexplainable manner from all others.

Look with me fixedly, dear Lady Saxthorpe.

Look, indeed, with more than your eyes.

Look at that flush of wild lavender, where it fades into the sands on one side, and strikes the emerald green of that wet seamoss on the other.