Spring in Southland

Southland Times, Issue 20014, 30 October 1926, Page 22

Spring in Southland

—Senior Section.—? —Prize.— Spring in Southland! Soft warm breezes, tender, sprouting grass-blades, clean, white long-legged lambs and budding trees. Tiny larks carolling gaily up in the fleckless sky, and sparrows twittering ceaselessly in the great, spreading trees. Delicate, trailing arms of starry, snowwhite clematis, mingling with the soft sulphur yellow of the kowhai, and down, nestling against the mossy trunks and twisted roots, wee peeping violets and primroses. And everywhere, the peculiar, pleasant odour of damp earth slowly drying in the i warm Spring sunshine. ( The soft, droning buzz of myriads of 1 newly-awakened bees, casting aside their i winter sleep in the first quick flight, and the first exciting dive into the scented trumpet of some beautiful, prized daffodil. Snowdrops and snowflakes lifting their i dainty heads; and wall-flowers, displaying ' splash of colour, and pansies, violets and primroses adding their modest little touch to the general effect. And everywhere, glad hurrying people, glimpsing the other side of troubles, and taking a cheerier view of life’s worries, as the throb of Spring-time goes pulsing through their veins.

Sunshine, warm breezes, bush beauties, and Springtime joy. Spring in Southland! Ah! Southland in Spring! —Cousin Edeen Jaquiery (16), 21 George street, North Invercargill. —Prize.— A shower of rain has fallen, leaving everything shimmering and sweet-scented. The kowhai and the golden gorse make the paddocks like Fairyland, and one can almost see dainty little forms playing in the daffodils, that grow wild, in little clusters. The willows, which dip gracefully into the spearkling waters of the Oreti River, are just putting on their wonderful green dresses, and the tiny leaves are playing peek-a-boo, with each other, and seeing which can grow the fastest. The clouds are now little specks on the horizon, and old King Sol and his sunbeams are hard at work chasing away any lingering raindrop. The lambs, delighted that the sky is once more blue, frisk out from shelter and gambol merrily on their wobbly little legs. Above the tree-tops, a lark trills his song of joy. All is peace, Spring has come to Southland. —Cousin Anita Tapley (15), 77 Dalrymple Road, Invercargill. —Highly Commended.— Far over the countryside paddock after paddock stretches, some a faint green where new crops are showing up, others thick with lush grasses and clover; each paddock separated by glowing gorse hedges. Around each farm house is a riot of blossom. Golden daffodils amongst the tender green and pink of flowering currants, while in the background axe apple trees, masses of palest pink blossom. In the background the hills are, as ever, unchangeable except perhaps for a faint touch of green. Far in the bush, the deep silence of which is broken only by the bell-bird’s notes, clusters of starry-eyed clematis crown the tall old rata trees. In long black lines the mutton birds come to palest pink blossom. In the backwhich the mutton bird plant shows silver in the sea breeze. Spring, glorious, Spring has come to Southland. —Cousin Daisy Ward (16), Awarua Plains. —Highly Commended.— Dawn.—All is silent as the great red sun appears above the horizon, and sends his laughing heralds to waken the world. The lark, springing up, breathes his happy notes, till all Nature glories in the beauty of the new-born day. Morning.—Music fills, the air. I wander into the cool bush, and watch a crimson butterfly lighting on the kowhai blossom which hangs over the still river. Clematis dances above me; and a cheeky bellbird flits from tree to tree. Afternoon. —The wind dies away; and I watch the golden daffodils nodding to the cowslips and the violets. Evening.—The sun slips down, and one by one the gold and scarlet clouds follow to the Land of Rest. An hour of darkening shadows, and daylight gasps and dies. Night.—The sounds of life are hushed; and the moon sails into the heavens to look upon a happy world. And this is Spring in Southland. —Cousin Annie Playfair (15), Gummies Bush. ♦ —Highly Commended— Not long after dawn I wandered out of the house and across the meadows. The grass was wet with dew and the air was deliciously fresh, laden with the scent of daffodils and primroses. A tiny brook babbled contentedly through the meadow and now and again a lamb bleated; but a hush seemed to enfold the land as though it awaited the appearance of the aun. At last he rose as from a couch of gold and coral and for sheer envy of his beauty the dewdrops sparkled with a thousand tinted lights while the lambs bleated forth their welcome. High up in the heavens a lark poured out its soul in harmonious delight. The flush died from the sky, the dewdrops faded, and the lark descended to its home. But the spell was not broken, rather it increased. It was Spring—in Southland. —Cousin Eileen Mclntosh (15), 59 Ness street, Invercargill —Highly Commended— The sun had not long risen and the grass, sparkling with dew. was dotted everywhere with daisies with which kind nature had dowered the earth. High up in the heavens the clouds unfurled their gorgeous banners and in the tree-tops birds were pouring forth melodious bursts of song. The pretty spring-clad trees and the delicate forms of the spring flowers filled the air with their sweet perfumes. The tiny w’hite fleecy lambs were gambolling on the soft sward in the meadows, and a singular, intoxicating sweetness stealing over their senses filled them with strange wonder. Peace brooded deep within all for glorious Spring reigned over Southland. —Cousin Dorothy Harper (14), 35 Ayr street, Invercargill. —Highly Commended— What a pleasant change spring is after the Jong, dreary winter months. With the coming of spring all nature once more wakes to life after its long winter’s sleep. As we walk through the garden, we notice that the trees have lost their desolate appearance and that Hie leaves are beginning to appear. Walking along the country roads of Southland one notices that the grass is beginning to grow, while here and there daisies and buttercups are taking their first peep at the world. From out the undergrowth the clematis twines itself around the trunks and boughs of trees until it pushes its beautiful white clusters into the warm spring air. Under the influence of the sun the flowers once more begin to appear brightening the gardens with their gay colours. One of the first flowers to appear is the daffodil whose bright yellow cups are familiar to us all. When the day is fine every flower in the garden mingles its perfume with the clear spring air and, attracted by the sweet odours, swarms of bees venture out in search of honey, while gaily coloured butterflies flitter lightly here and there. Birds are either building their nests in the leafy branches or singing among the tree-tops. Out in the country farmers are busy preparing the ground for seed-sowing. * The fields are a mass of verdant pasture in which cattle~ and sheep placidly graze. I risking in the paddocks many young lambs may be seen while the mothers lie basking in the sun. Although summer is a pleasant season we are all sorry when spring is over. —Cousin Gwen Shaw (14), “Molyneuxville,” Elies Road, South Invercargill. —Highly Commended.— ’Tis | spring-time in Southland; glorious spring. The birds are all singing gaily on the tree tops that are swaying gently with the cool breeze, while the pretty little lambs are all gambolling about in the fields as their mothers graze quietly in the nearby paddocks of fresh green spring grass. Everything seems to have awakened with the first signs of spring, as the busy little bees buzz in and out among the flowers, gathering honey, and the beautiful butterfly flits swiftly but quietly by. • Even the farmer is busy, as the ground has to be ploughed, ready to sow the crops to feed the animals in the bitter months of winter, while in the house there is a clitter and a clatter as the housemaid is busy with the spring-cleaning. —Cousin Ella (14), Matuku P. 0., Mossbu»-u. —Junior Section.— —Prize.— What does it mean. Warm, sunny days and a few Spring flowers. No! It means something more. Nature in Southland’s Spring gives evepdhing and everybody that fresh Spring feeling, while everything is en-

dowed with her choicest gifts. We do not enjoy a long hot sunny Spring, but we have beautifully fresh damp days, mingled with the warm summery ones. A perfect Spring! Everywhere in Southland Nature has laid her deep soft, brilliantly green carpets, while to relieve- the green we see great golden flares of nodding daffodils m the breeze. Modest white vkflete hide beneath the friendly cover of the blades of grass, and shy little daisies make a beautiful pattern upon the green swardin the bush everything is a mass of green! Luxuriant undergrowth, which twines around the gnarled old trunks is artistically festooned here and there with garlands of trailing clematis making a delightful picture. The feathered songsters fly hither and thither each deeply intent upon his Spring song. The babbling brook adds to the joyous scene as it bounds in its Spring freedom over its pebbly bed. Out in the fields romp the young lambs, and over in the yard the farmer is feeding the calved. The sun sets in a blaze of red and gold splendour, leaving behind a lingering Spring twilight. Truly this is the world of the master artist. —Cousin Dympna O’Brien, (11), Te Wae W’ae. —Prize.— Spring has come with her magic touch. The buds have buret into exquisite beauty and the air is filled with the delicate fragrance of fruit-blossom. In the dawn there dwells a whisper of a presence that is new, and crystal-ringing brooks ripple along through mossy nooks and vales. At my window the sparrows all convene, and ring entrancing songs which are most fantastic on a fresh spring morning. One of the prettiest country scenes is the greenness of the hills and behind them the snow-covered mountains, then beyond these the fathomless blue of the sky. Along the roadsides the blooms of bright yellow gorse beside the green of meadows fair. While in the sunshine of a spring day the leaves of the forest dance for joy. The clematis vines cling to some tree, which is lit up by its starry blossoms. Yet, Spring with all her mystic splendour paints the earth anew, with rich, yet soft colours. The lambs playing in the pastures and the cattle grazing so contentedly make Spring in Southland a most delightful time of the year. —Cousin Nancy Mouat (13), “Blinkbonnie,” Dipton. —Highly Commended.— "See the yellow catkins cover All the slender willows over.** The words of this poem came to my mind as I walked along Nith street by the puni Creek, where some weeping willows were covered in catkins. In the gardens crocuses were making a bright show, daffodils were pushing their green stalks up through the earth, little birds were gathering bits of straw and dried grass to here and there on the lawns were clusters make nests. In the orchards fruit trees were covered in pink or white blossoms, and of white dairies. Best of all the sun was warmer, rose earlier and set later, and the days are longer. We must have winter to kill rhe slugs and insects in the gardens and to sweeten the ground, but how very glad everyone is to see the first signs of spring. —Cousin Joan Whitworth (11), 19 Raymond street, Georgetown. —Highly Commended.— The sun is shining overhead, a few fleecy white clouds are floating across the sky, while the birds are singing their sweetest song, for it is Spring, you know. The little lambs are frisking in the meadows where the daisies are blooming their white petals and hearts of gold making a lovely picture among the green grass. The flowers are all coming out in the garden and golden daffodils make one think it is a bunch of sunshine itself. In the orchard the trees are all putting on their coats of • green, while the white blossoms are a lovely sight. There the bees are busily at work gathering the honey. The bush, too, is a lovely sight with flowers of all sorts hanging there. Now the farmers are busy, and you may hear the hum of the tractor all day. —Cousin Elsie Amos (13), Mabel Bush. —Highly Commended.— The ground flame of the crocus, breaks the mould, Fair Spring slides hither o’er the Southern Sea, Wavers on her thin stem the snowdrop cold, That trembles not, to kisses of the bee. —Tennyson. Tennyson writes, of the cold snowdrop, wavering on her thin stem; but I’m thinking we might truly say, that Spring, herself, is wavering before she finally settles with us, in Southland, this year. One comfort is, that- we seem to need a plentiful rainfall. I often marvel at the rapid way the earth soaks away even the heaviest rain. Our Southland climate is so temperate, so free of extreme heat, or rigid frosts, that our Spring mornings are a fresh, dewy delight. Our Southland twilights, too, give the farming people an extra half-hour to go round the sheep at lambing time after a long day on the tractor in the fields. —Cousin James Botting (11) “Terry Hill,” Woodlands. —Highly Commended.— Southland has the credit of having a glorious Spring. Our eyes sparkle when the first signs of this wonderful season appear. Away on every hand in this province of Southland during the Springtime stretches the fine undulating country, well-cultivated fields and broad stretches of moorland. It is a scene to revel in. We hear the birds sing, and we gather once again, the fair daffodils, the golden heads looking up into the sunshine, or to be kissed by the pattering Spring shower, fresh and dewy. After the black death of winter comes the resurrection of Spring. Life seems knew and the air is fresh, pure and sweet. What better could we wish for, the great cloudless dome of blue, above us, and everywhere the birds ringing gaily, while the air is filled with the perfume of flowers. The lambs frolic in the green fields, breathing the air of healthful restfulness, which pervades the whole countryside. What pride surges through our minds when we think of our sunny Southland Springtime, awake with gaiety. —Cousin Doris Henderson (13), 64 Met. bourne street, North Invercargill —Highly Commended.— Hail! glorious Spring! when all Nature wakes to new life again after her long winter deep. Of all the seasons spring is the most beautiful as everything seems so fresh and sweet. Wherever we wander, golden daffodils greet us. In our gardens snowdrops, crocuses, violets, and primroses cheer our hearts and tell us, “Spring is here.” And our native bush ? The kowhai with its drooping cups of gold and prettiest of all I think is the starry’ clematis, trailing its pure blossoms among the greenery. As we stroll through the bush the little birds seem to be bursting their tiny throats in their excitement to tell us, “Spring is here.” Another day we can have a stroll through the paddocks where the little white fleeced lambs are frolicking around everywhere. I wonder how many other little girls and boys look forward to spring as much as I do. —Cousin Sophie Dunlop (12), Niagara. —Highly Commended— Spring—the word clearly and beautifully explains itself. When spring gets into our minds it stirs us up with new life, new joy, new strength. This season of new life comes to us only once a year bringing joy to all. Have you seen her, gentle, pure, sublime, clothed in white samite, a wreath of flowers around her long, dark tresses waiving gently in the breeze? Have you seen her stoop to kiss the first violet of spring or have you seen her standing ’neath a great kowhai tree singing? Perhaps if you have risen very early you have seen her breathing sweet fragrance into every flower and into the calm morning air. Have you heard those fairy voices calling, “Wake up! wake

up! little snow-drop we fear you may sleep too long”? Springtime in thy bowers, On the sweet green grass, Fairy-petalled flowers, Greet me as I pass. —Cousin Jean Playfair (13), “Bonfiefield,” Gummies Bush. —Commended.— Southland looks its best in the months of Spring, the daffodils of every kind are in bloom and when they are in amongst the long grass they look beautiful. Then the lilac and japouica with their beautiful scent and colour. The kowhai and wattle look beautiful as you ride along in a car. We also get signs that summer is coming because all the apple and cherry trees are in full bloom, and a mixture of pink and white together look gorgeous. The broom and gorse all along the sides of the road, and as you go past you smell the strong perfume. Then all the windows of the shops change and are filled with gay spring dresses. People and children get up early to play tennis because it is so warm, and fresh and breezy. There is no need to have fires in your house because it is so warm. —Cousin Ruth Lush (13) 177 Don street, Invercargill. —Commended.— Spring is our most welcome season of the year, because the long winter is past and our days are longer and brighter. It is lovely to watch the sunset from a high Southland hill on a spring evening. Many bright colours illumine the sky, such as crimson mingled with gold or blue. The birds, too, are singing as one looks upon this glorious spectacle, while at our feet are the fields spread like green carpets upon which we may walk. One may also see the farmer get his horses into the plough and turn over the fresh-smelling soil, as he thinks, “Oh, what will the harvest be!” The little lambs, too, enjoy spring as they frolic about along the willow-covered river banks. Also on many Southland farms, one may see the fruit trees covered with a mass of white blossom. I think spring fills our hearts with joy. —Cousin Ina Carr (12), Niagara.