THE SPIRIT OF SUMMER.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19221, 9 January 1926, Page 6 (Supplement)

THE SPIRIT OF SUMMER.

BY QUIZ. She is with us at last, glorious, triumphant, with her full shown colours. The half-lights and shadows fled at the touch of her burning beauty. Tho dwellers of these isles have waited impatiently for her coming, for who knew in what ficklo mood she would appear ? Many a time has she come in company with that sportspoiling spirit Jupiter i'luvius, tho Bain God. But in this year of grace 1926, she has come in her old loved guiso as we used to know her, and fiung down her jewels with no unsparing hand. With brush dipped in cerulean has she painted i>ea and sky. True, she has obliterated spring's emerald carpet with brush of sienna and brown, and she has stolen and hidden away the littlo white blossoms ot the manuka, but she has kindled her tires upon tne tree tops we love. 'I he pohutukawas throb and burn with a thousand sparkling gems. .Ruby reel, they are reflected below in the water s sapphire rim, their fringe-like sweet-smelling petals, stirred by the breeze, falling solt.iy thereon. Fragile, lairy things, ssiiung out upon seas of blue, whither .' A temptress, too, is tho spirit of summer. All who can, leavo the city; ferry boats, river boats and launches are crowded with happy humanity making their way down the shimmering sea-road. They are going down to the littlo rest houses that fringe tho white beaches or nestle among tlio hills. The sea spirit beckons them on, for though they were born to tho tang of it, and the lap of it, they cannot have enough ol it. Then, too, there aro the pretty little painted ships with snowy canvas set, manned by crews of stalwart, bronzed young giants, modern sons of Anak with rippling muscles playing beneath their brown skins. Down the fairway go the graceful craft skimming over tho azure till they, too, anchor by the rest houses. Soou the sails are furled, the toy anchor dropped overboard, bathing suits donned, arid ashore come the brown-skinned boys, who aro met by smiling modern nymphs of Aphrodite. Gay, riotous, and colourful is their water garb. A sea carnival begins and soon they aro all in the briny waves, laughing, splashing and chattering, true children of Nature, borne upon the breast of the sea-mother. On the beach, sheltered by tho übiquitous Japenese umbrella, gentle-eyed mothers watch lovesome brown babies roll in tho sand and kick sturdy young legs in ecstasy. Over all, the atmosphere quivers and shimmers in the summer heat, but the dweller in those fortunate isles minds it not, for he is a true sun-worshipper. So the daj's go on, untouched by care, and life b((comes .a charmed, sweet existence. Then comes the evening hour. The spirit of summer sets her standards in the sky, primrose and purple, gold, flame sind vermillion are her quarterings, mature, full shown and glorious. Even the tiny ones are sensitive of the burning pageant. A sweet toddler passes my door, " I like the sky, mummy dear," she lisps, " I like the sky." All the doors and all the windows of tho little rest houses are open; the casements flung wide, and the young folk come and sit beneath the lintels, and sing to tho ukuleles and guitars, and make sweet haunting melodies, and the tang and incense of tho sea drifts up. Ah! what a heritage is this to us who live beneath the Southern Cross. It •were a shame, indeed, did we not breed a fine race of men and maidens, beinjj able to live almost six months in tho open. We glance at the paper, down tho jiews columns of the Old Country, and read "Hurricane and floods in England; old year literally blown out." Yet dear,, sturdy, storm-rent old England still contrives to remain merry. Our sun-bathed isolation fortunately saves us from thes«> extremes. By comparison, the worst we get hore is tho tag end of a gale, a flooded cellar in the city, or occasionally a chimney stack blown down, a,t which we grumble lustily. So where is the poet who will write his ode to the Sun Dwellers ? For in our city there is 110 child so poor that when summer reigns he may not, at the cost of half an hour's walk., find himself upon an ozone-swept beach, whose sands are just as white and whose ■waters are as blue as those that lie behind our three-peaked harbour sentinel, Rangitoto. , Long may tho spirit of summer linger with us to scatter her gifts and garlands, but, at tho falling and reddening of tho leaves, may we thankfully welcome her more sober garbed-sister, autumn, whc> brings with her the fruits of the harvest, " Tho Glory and Crown of the Year."