MOONLIGHT

Southland Times, Issue 21997, 22 April 1933, Page 18

MOONLIGHT

—Prize— I sit here now in the sweet cool moonlight gazing on the glorious beauty of the green-tipped monarchs, lifting their graceful, groaning boughs to a cold blue sky. Far below a river ripples and gurgles its way over the misty plains—a moving ribbon of silver that runs eastward from park-like, timbered, towering peaks crowned with a gleam of everlasting snow. All around me the late spring flowers, laden with glittering dew-drops, nod their bowed heads in sleep, while through the bushes and shrubs the cold south wind whispers tales of fairyland. From the distant hills a grey owl calls; wild and weird it breaks upon the silence of the land, then slowly among distant echoes dies away. A dog barks from a nearby farmyard and once again the silent night settles in a bed of ghostly shadows and weird reflections. The soft clouds that hung lazily on the dim horizon slowly roll from sight casting before our eyes snowcapped mountains silhouetted against a dark blue sky. The moon climbs its steady way up the stairs of the Heaven; slowly, silently the silver crescent rises, a beautiful symbol of love, that shines down upon the earth, strangely mysterious in her golden glow. What wonderful tales she holds! What terrible sights she has gazed upon, weird, tragic, romantic, yet she reigns over all, as fair a queen as ever ruled the earth. Brilliant golden stars twinkle brightly as, one by one they push their way through the cloudless sky. And so the night as if on leaden wings slowly passes, the stealthy shadows grow small and dim, the beauty of God’s moonlight paradise fades—the night is done. Away to the east golden rays of sunshine light up the pale sky, the trees rustle above me and a bright lark bursts into song, bringing With it dawn, and the breaking of day, with warm sunshine to fall over all. —2/6 and 4 marks to Cousin Hannah Skerrett (14), Pahia.

—Highly Commended. — Stealing over the mountains, over the gullies, over the plains comes the night. The sun has just shown its head for the last time over the horizon before he sinks to rest in the golden west. Slowly the moon shows through the clouds and floods the earth with a light so brilliant, so radiant and yet so mysterious that everyone on earth is astonished at the change. All welcome the soft beauty of the mystic moonlight after the dazzling brightness of the sun’s rays. No-one understands its full glory until they see in the. semi-darkness an equisite splendour unsurpassed by the most beautiful daybreak. How mysterious is moonlight! Many unfathomable mysteries seem ready to pop round every corner and frighten even the sturdiest of men. The gloomy stillness of a moonlight night brings out all the romance of the world in one burst of light. Trees loom out of the darkness as sentinels on duty and as if in reward are flooded with a shower of radiance. There seems nothing to mar the beauty of the moonlight hours when the dancing moonbeams flit in and out of the shadows shading a soft glow on all they pass. The moonlight hours are hours of beauty, radiance and wonder. Downhearted and forlorn many a man wishes he was never born until he sees how bravely the moonlight battles to keep below the clouds and not allow them to have the monopoly of the sky. To see the moon in the glory—a sphere of loveliness not to be beaten by myriads of twinkling stars—is the most heartening thing and.no-one, even the most unappreciative person, can possibly miss the soft beauty of its light, bright, yet not dazzling; unreal, yet quite real, the moon lives for ever in tlie hearts of men as a splendid giver of sparkling light. —2 marks to Cousin Edith Mclnnes (13), 9 Duke street, Gladstone.

The soft afterglow in the west gradually faded, but the magic green light of evening lingered yet in the sky. A. brooding silence fell. Ghostly white moths hovered dreamily over the drowsy flowers. Then a little fairy wind came shyly fluttering along, softly stirring the dew-drenched grasses. Suddenly the earth woke, became tremulous, vibrating. Dusk thickened making a futile attempt to drown the tumbling gladness of the evening. A faint glow appeared and spread in the east, the drab shadows became shimmering, almost alive. Vague dull lights streamed down. All round, the landscape was pale, and sad, and wan. The faint cold light began slowly to brighten and soon the whole earth was bathed in mellow, luminous light. Bright stars were studded here and there in the dusky blue bowl, but their cold chill radiance became almost trifling and insignificant as the moon rose higher, and still higher, shedding her silvery rays all around. Tail-trees were

sharply silhouetted against the bright glow, their lacy branches, faintly edged with blue. Now and then tattered clouds drifted b;', dimming the light of the moon. There was a slight fitful breeze gently swaying the trees. It breathed half impatiently around, then, with a mournful little sigh, faded away into the distance. There WQ s a strange dampness in the air that haa not been apparent before. The dew was falling. A wonderful life-giving fairy rain. Away in the dense shadows an owl hooted shrilly. Soon the brightness began to wane and the sky slowly darkened. The stars became pale, large, and thoughtful. Glowing bfl™- 5 like warm, rosy fingers appeared in the east. The ghostly white lights were rapidly disappearing, shadows became purple and then changed to grey. Pale, tired moon fairies quickly gathered their discarded beams and then, long before the sun leaped from behind the horizon, folded their tired wings and sank slowly, drowsily, into the valley of darkness. , —2 marks to Cousin Lesley Shand (17), Rimu. , If there is any particular time that one can imagine all sorts of enchanting things, it is in the silvery light of the moon, especially when the moon is nearly full. The night seems so light, and yet with so soft a light that it is neither light nor dark. Familiar objects take on a different shape while things a distance away can become anything to the imagination. A moonlight night is a night for contemplation, one’s thoughts seem to turn to fairies, romance and enchantment. It seems to fill the heart with a longing that can hardly be described. It seems that the vforld is so full of promise of wonderful things-to come. It seems to whisper great secrets, and yet tells nothing. A hundred voices seem to lure, and the thought of gojng in to rest seems very unattractive. The dark outline of the forest offers another subject for wonder. What is happening on a night like this in those enchanted spots that we visit in daylight? Surely the fairies. are holding some revel there. Above, the great blue sky also seems to speak of wonders. What really is above us, we wonder? The millions of stars that are so beautiful on a dark night are still there but only a few of the brightest and largest ones show out. The queen of the night has outshone the most of them. Most entrancing of all, however, is the moonlight on water. To drift m some boat across a sheet of shimmering water is to be in Fairyland indeed. Even the water seems to speak, as it softly ripples against your vessel’s side. Now and again a soft splash tells of the fishes playing all about you, while the shore seems to offer all sorts of excitement. Then, when it is necessary to leave at last for bed, it is with real regret to leave so much beauty and the voices of the moonlight call still, until sleep at last shuts them out. —2 marks to Cousin Connie Jellyman (14), Queen street, Otautau.