Skavinski threw to them generally the remnants of his food and soon they grew tame, and afterward, when he fed them, a real storm of white wings encircled him, and the old man went among the birds like a shepherd among sheep. He grew accustomed also to the sea-mews which hatched in the crevices of the rock, and in the evening held meetings on the roof of the lighthouse. The old man grew accustomed to his tower, to the lantern, to the rock, to the sand-bars, to solitude. Time passed, and confirmed him in this conviction. Skavinski was intoxicated with his own happiness and since a man adapts himself easily to improved conditions, he gained faith and confidence by degrees for he thought that if men built houses for invalids, why should not God gather up at last His own invalids? He felt that the rest which he was enjoying was excellent and when he thought that it would be continuous nothing was lacking to him.
The lighthouse keeper of aspinwall full#
At that time a certain lassitude full of sweetness seized the old man. Floods of sunbeams were poured from the sky on the water and the sands and the cliff.
The yellow sands from which the waves had fallen back glittered like golden stripes on the width of the waters the body of the tower was outlined definitely in blue. In the afternoon six o`clock came the movements in the harbor began to cease the mews hid themselves in the rents of the cliffs the waves grew feeble and became in some sort lazy and then on the land, on the sea, and on the tower came a time of stillness unbroken by anything. From early morning a light eastern breeze brought a confused hum of human life, above which predominated the whistle of steamers.
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