PHASES OF LAKE COMO.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2662, 2 June 1908, Page 7

PHASES OF LAKE COMO.

9 p.m.—The water and the mountains are black. Behind the highest of the opposite peaks a pink glow appears. Jt becomes rose : then it changes to ruby. There is a flash of gold. Then the full moon rises. The water, bla-.-ker than ever in the shadows, turns to a .sheet of polished sled. The mountains are black and feilvor. The lights of villages gleam along the shore and in the water. From an umcen boat come the music of a guitar and the voices of men and women singing. A sail, big and square, appears, and glides by in spectral silence. From the torpedo hont the searchlight plays along the shore and up the mountain sides. In this way the Customs officers keep a look-out for smugglers. In the garden the roses, the honeysuckle, all the flowers, have faded out of sight ; but their scent hangs heavily in the air. There is no breeze ; there is not a ripple on the water. A bat sweeps by. A nightingale is singing in the woods. 8 a.m.—The lake is seen through a shimmering haze. Nothing is distinct : one mountain melts into another, and it is hard to say where the sky joins the mountains and where the mountains fall into the water. To the call of the sun the flowers among the lawns answer with waves of The tireless nightingales have again taken up their ?o:ig. The haymakers are at work among the vineyards,:the mul-berry-trees are being stripped of their leaves, and hare-legged children perched in the branches of the cherrytrees denude them of their scarlet fruit. Boatmen dressed in white, with blue or with scarlet sashes, are at work in the little harbour. Where the lights of the night sank their golden shafts have risen the white houses of villages by the water's edge. Under the arbour of roses a little table is spread with coffee and rolls and honey.

Noon.—Each rugged height stands out distinctly against the sky. The glaciers above the granite peaks flash in the sunlight. The sky is a serene blue, a blue of unfathomable depth and full of light. Seen from a little height the water looks a transparent sapphire, a path of pure crystal between the mountains. Glancing over the side of a boat there can be seen, far below, the white pebbles on the bottom and the fish gliding into their cool retreats. Tim polished leaves of the chestnuts gleam on the mountain sides.—"Westminster Gazette."