THE AWAKENING

New Zealand Times, Volume L, Issue 11655, 20 October 1923, Page 12

THE AWAKENING

AN IDYLL (For the "New Zealand Time*?/’) There ww a mysterious feeling of gro\v t)i eve ry wh e re. Dull grass had become suddenly verdantly green. Trees which had been denuded of their leafy beauty during winter months .suddenly afforded a welcome shade of emerald loveliness, from the first heat of spring. There was an indescribable feeling of wakening life on all sides, rustlings in the grass betokened many busy insects going to and jro on mysterious errands. Small birds, hatched in earlier months, had attained a state of feathered perfection; and as they hopped, and flew, and perched, the beauty of their wing feathers, their downy breasts, their little cmoolh heads, was a joy to behold. And as they played in ami out of the scented shrubs, their bright eyes sparkled like precious gems. And higher up on the scented shrubs and on the graceful swaying branches of the trees, feathered melodists filled the air with song. Songs that waft our thoughts in many directions, and recall scenes and experiences in many climes, with their accompanying associations of sweetest joy or crushing sorrow. \:\ the neighbouring fields calves Iwunded and swung their tails in the exuberance of their youthful spirits. Their soft, brown, unflinching eyes, gazed contentedly on the glory of the green world of undulating beauty, spread out before them. Round about some old farm buildings, on which the sunshine played, hens and chickens scratched contentedly; the proud mothers always a little anxious lest one tiny chick should stray too far from parental control, or join some other family of yellow fluffiness if she relaxed for a moment her vigilant watch. And in the fruit garden, the blossoming trees foretold a luscious harvest in the coming mouthy when the present evanescent loveliness, which made the garden look like fairyland, would have departed and lefi, in place of blossoms of perfect beauty, ripening fruit to make glad and reward for tender care the owner s heart. And round the quaint dwellinghouse, in beds of various shapes, the spring flowers vied with each other in alluring loveliness. All the colours of the rainbow merged and mingled, and wafted upwards from their petalled chalices Went a delicious perfume, like Coating incense. High up on a little balcony a tiny baby lay in his white bassinet, the world below stretched fair before his azure eyes. Gardens full of fairest blooms, green fields on sloping hillsides, where lambs were gambolling beside their watching mothers.

Burgeoning shrubs, swaying trees, song birds and humming insects, and ah the wonder of growing things. From an open doorway the young mother of the tiny child came towards her treasure—a vision in a pale green floating gown, with love and hope radiating from her soft clear eyes. And ns the rays of sunlight glinted on her slender form, on her yearning hands stretched out to her child —above the radiant flowers, loveliest flower of them all—she looked the visible incarnation of spring : And the lark trilled with joy above her head, The blackbird sang in a bower of green, The lilies exhaled their sweet perfume, And the roses hailed her as Queen. —LAURA JEAN VICTORY.