Autumn Pageantry

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 172, 17 April 1937, Page 9 (Supplement)

Autumn Pageantry

I'm glad autumn is here—aren’t you? A boisterous wind has stripped the trees of their leaves, and they are sailing everywhere—gay fragments of yellow and red—fairy ships. The bright briar berries make the roadsides very gay. Some are smooth and shiny, while others are wrinkly and dry, like gnomes’ faces.

The sky is a beautiful blue, with here and there huge mountains of pearly grey clouds. The sunbeams seem to have stained the earth a soft, delicate yellow, which gives a singular softness to the large shadows of the almost bare trees upon the short velvety grass.—New Zealand Lass (15), Waipawa.

It is lovely to rise with the sun on a frosty or dewy morning and go out in the garden. Everything looks lovely and the cobwebs are diamonds strung On the finest grey thread. The rising sun, as it shines through the drops, gives them a most colourful appearance. There is a delicious tang in the air and you go in for breakfast with a sharpened appetite.—Hune (13), Rongotai.

In our garden I always think the autumn flowers are brightest. Although the blooms are not so large, there are more of them, and the leaves, too, are turning red, yellow and brown. The lawn is vividly green, and there are clumps of kaffir flower, dahlias, phlox and marigolds in the borders, edged with white and mauve crocuses. In the background Virginia creeper is turning scarlet and the maples bronze.—Pepper (13), Palmerston North.

Autumn, golden aUtumn, her mellowless and warmth spread far afield, tints the leaves and flowers, changes the green foliage of the preceding season into bright reds, yellows, oranges, russets and browns. The delicate fresh summer flowers change to sturdy golden chrysanthemums, bright red and orange hoar berries and beautiful borders of asters. The ground becomes thickly carpeted with leaves. The days grow shorter, and night, shepherding her twinkling lanterns closely together, draws her dark blue velvet cloak all too quickly. Cold, icy winter, glistening white, draws slowly nearer, and the world is quiet and still, shrouded in autumn’s mists and fragrant perfumes.—“ Jessamine" (13), Masterton.