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126 228 . the miracles of antichrist
III
the coming-home
It is quite a wonderful thing to come home.
While still on the journey it cannot be imagined
that it will be so wonderful. On reaching Reggio,
on the Messina Sound, Sicily is seen to rise out of
the sea like a land of mist, and at first a feeling of
impatience arises : " Is that all? Why, that is just
like all other countries."
And this impatience continues on stepping ashore
in Messina. Something ought to have happened,
happened while away. There should not be the
same distress, the same tatters, the same misery, as
on going away.
It is seen well enough that the spring is come.
The fig-trees bear leaves again, the vines send out
tendrils that grow to be several feet in a few hours,
and quantities of peas and beans are spread out on
the fruit-stands in the harbor.
Glancing up towards the heights above the city,
the gray cactus is seen climbing along the edges
of the rocks, covered with bright red flowers. They
have burst forth everywhere, like bright little
flames.
Yet, however much the cactus may bloom, it
stands there just as gray and dusty and cobwebby.
And the thought comes that the cactus is like Sicily
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