TWEEN DARK AND DAYLIGHT

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVII, Issue 23618, 30 March 1940, Page 3 (Supplement)

TWEEN DARK AND DAYLIGHT

,-QEAR AXXE SHIRLEY, —I have written to ynu describing the countryside in the morning and in the hot afternoon, but this time I describe it to you just as the shades of evening draw nigh. It is quiet up here on the hilltop and 1 have a grand view of the surrounding country. The sun has not set yet, but lingers above the horizon, clothing the land in a golden glow. Far away the queerly-shaped hills are dim .with a purple haze. This evening there is nothing to disturb the tranquil calm of dying day, for the winds are laid and the restless leaves droop and are quiet. Lower

ginks the sun, redder grows the west. Winding along the floor of the valley, the sleepy river goes, mirroring in its placid surface the gold, the saffron, the flaming red of tlie sunset sky. The pulsating, monotonous rhythm of the milking machine drifts up the yalley; the cows stand about in the dusty yard patiently waiting for the gates to open on to their green pastures. There, in the centre of a g'-cy-green field a poplar stands, clotheG,in green, and by the water s edge the graceful weeping willows trail their leafy arms in ( cool waters. A train draws out of the station, its thistle breaking the quietness. In the

glorious light of the glowing sunset the ageless, fern-clad hills seem less austere and more kindly, and as I watch them 1 dream of the secrets they must know. Now the sun slowly enters the golden gates where the hills and the sky meet, drawing after it a grey veil that obscures the blue. From the red-gold west to the pale east, the beautiful colours of sunset are painted. Soon the brilliant colours fade and the pearl-grey of evening takes their places, and the valleys are filled with the purple shadows of dusk. The world is fragrant to-night with the scent of a million wavside blossoms.

And now. Anne Shirley, although the twilight is drawing its mystic veil closely round the silent land, and a silver moon comes up from behind the tar-away hills, 1 wish T could stay a little longer, as one who lingers to cover up the glowing embers. As I prepare to leave, the small %'erse enters my mind: — Between the darkness and the daylight, When the sun is beginning to lower, There comes a pause in the day's occupation, That is known jis the Children's Hour. Do you not think that hour is the sunset, Anne Shirley? To me it seems as though the world is very quiet then. —Your sincere circler, Audrey Levis, Paengarou.