SEASONS FOUR.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 74, 29 March 1933, Page 14

SEASONS FOUR.

(By Maureen Moss, 30, Wellesley Road, Napier.) The summer is slowly ending, and autumn is coming to reign, queen of the land for three short months. Of the four seasons of the year it is hard to say which is the most beautiful.

There is spring, the season of youth, when Nature calls to youth, for spring is the season of youth eternal. Everything in plant life is a tender green, and the shy spring flowers are answering the call of sunshine.

Then there is summer time, rose time, and who can resist the perfume of the queen of flowers? Summer time, when the sky is a deep, deep blue, and high up in the blue vault of heaven the golden monarch reigns supreme. Out in the country the hay is slowly turning golden, and the fruit trees are fulfilling their promise of spring. Then summer most reluctantly gives up her throne to autumn, who, clad in rich warm red, her golden crown pressing lightly on her chestnut brown hair, comes into full possession.

Then winter comes, stern, cold, dignified winter, bringing with him his constant companion, Jack Frost. It is in this season that the great lamp-like chrysanthemums are in bloom, and they light up all the dullness of winter with their majestic beauty. Shy white snowdrops are in bloom, too, and against the background of dark brown and green they shine like drops of purity. And then, for the comfort of those who dislike winter, there is the poet's words, "that winter slumbering in the open air wears on his smiling face a dream of spring."