RIGHT LIGHT OF LONDON

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 55, Issue 3929, 21 July 1937, Page 10

RIGHT LIGHT OF LONDON

A CITY OF JEWELS SEEN FROM THE AIR. The great droning silver bird seems for a while to be alone in the world. A tiny red and green lamp on the tip of each wing marks the extent of the known. Within the machine everything is familiar and clear; people an odd coflfee cup; without, land sea are shrouded in a mysterious blue shadow, not an empty void but a living, palpable element of dusk. Suddenly a green blaze of light flashes like an emerald bedded in dark velvet, the light on Shoeburyness Pier pierces the darkness, and the shadows lose their mystery, the earth is present once more and the exhilaration of flying into the unknown gives way to interest in the lights which jump up unexpectedly out of the darkness.

The fairy lamps of Southend Pier can now be recognised, and the floodlit outlines of four great battleships, watchers over the River of London, reveal themselves. Gradually the lights of Southend fade into the distance, and the darkness is cut only by straight rows of lights indicating main roads, while the powerful headlights of a passing car gleam for an instant like some tiny flashlight. Wisps of cloud float by, mysterious spirits of the night. Then, one by one, odd lights wink up from below. Becoming more numerous, they gather into clusters and strings, some bright and flashing, others radiating a diffused orange glow; while here and there a festoon of multicoloured gems catches the eye. Tilbury and Gravesend, the twin guardians of the port, are clearly recognised, with the river, a dark channel relieved only by the twinkle of lights reflected from moored liners, separating the two outports. The imposing pile of the floodlit Royal Naval College at Greenwich is the next striking landmark.

Darkness gives way to light and Greater London lies spread out like a carpet embroidered with scintilating sequins of all colours. As far as eye can see is one sparkling, twinkling, flashing festoon of lights, a tangled maze of brightness, blue, yellow, golden, crimson, emereld, like fairy chains slung in riotous profusion. New landmarks stand out brighter than the rest; Tower Bridge, a diamond archway to a jewelled city, the Tower, white and glistening, and behind it the warmer glow of pale and mellow gold of the P.L.A. Head Offices. From Blackfriars to Lambeth the sweep of

the river Is defined’by imposing enits of light. The white stone buildings gleam in variegated tones, icy and chill in white and blue, or bathed in the warm, sunlike rays of yellow. The flaming beacons on Shell Mex House leap in fiery restlessness, contrasting vividly with the cool green of the County Hall across the watei;. A crimson cloud hangs over the centre of the metropolis, and through it all, like a satin band, winds the river, dark, wonderful, mysterious, unmoved. Ten centuries of lights from the rush tdrch to the neon sign have reflected their city on the unruffled bosom of the eternal Thames.— P.L.A. Monthly.