There is a wharf not far from here where the sand barges unload. Do you know the smell of wet sand? Does it make you think of going to the beach in the evening light after a rainy day and gathering the damp drift wood (it will dry on top of the stove) and picking up for a moment the long branches of sea weed that the waves have tossed and listening to the gulls who stand reflected in the gleaming sand, and just fly a little way off as you come and then - settle again...
17 May 1915, The Letters and Journals of Katherine Mansfield
