The Star. MONDAY, JUNE 17, 1929. WHEN DOES WINTER BEGIN?

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18787, 17 June 1929, Page 8

The Star. MONDAY, JUNE 17, 1929. WHEN DOES WINTER BEGIN?

WHEN DOES WINTER BEGIN? In answer to this old question a Wellington newspaper says that 'winter begins on the shortest day and that summer begins on the longest day. This is a fiction that dies very hard. If one had to make an arbitrary New Zealand division of the four seasons by months, one would be safer to say that June, July and August were winter, September, October and November spring, December, January and February summer, and March, April and May autumn, but in the very temperate climate of New Zealand, June and July are really the only winter months, and herein there is room for interesting observation and nature study in the next few weeks. The first budding of the weeping willow, which carries its leaves so long and gets them again so early that it has almost become an evergreen; the first appearance of a humble bee in the springtime (as early at times as the second week in August) these are indications of returning spring that would enable us very accurately to fix the true duration of our winter season. From broad observation it could safely be contended that we have relatively two cold months in the year. We include August in the winter season because we had an annual snowfall in August for a certain period, but on the other hand the emergence of spring flowers in the same month might be used as an argument that winter had already ceased. ANOTHER EARTHQUAKE. THIS MORNING’S EARTHQUAKE, one of the most severe in the later history of the province, has passed without very serious damage being reported so far, and the earlier reports discount the fear that Arthur's Pass has experienced another subsidence. Nevertheless, the centre of the earthquake—which may have been at some other point in the Alps where its effect would not be noted—would have been a very uncomfortable place at which to find oneself this morning. Denudation along the line of the Southern Alps has lessened the downward pressure at places like Arthur’s Pass, and there may be frequent readjustments east of the main range. As we stated at the time of the Arthur’s Pass earthquake a few months ago, if the movement has fully relieved the strain there may follow a lengthy period of quiet, but when some structures give way there is always the possibility that other weak places may be exposed and give way in turn. AN INFEUENZA WARNING. PROFESSOR FITT, who has been studying the cycle of influenza epidemics for a number of years, has issued a warning that New Zealand may experience an epidemic in about six weeks’ time, and he has added the very commonsense advice that people should take as much rest and sleep as possible, to build up their systems to resist an attack. It is indeed difficult to forecast the period at which influenza will become epidemic. In some respects influenza is like an earthquake. Fortunately, it gives a little more warning of its coming, and unfortunately it is a thousand times more serious in its effects. Too little has been made of the devastating effects of the influenza epidemic in Great Britain last year. There the mortality was higher in places than that of the great influenza epidemic following the war, and even mild attacks of the disease were followed in innumerable cases by pneumonia and other serious complications. Professor Fill’s warning is timely, and is based on probability, and it is worthy of being taken notice of in view of the severe epidemic in Europe a few months ago. THE BEST SIX FEIGHTS. THE BEST SIX FLIGHTS in the past ten years were the subject of a very strange miscalculation, surely, by Lord Thomson, the new Air Minister, in toasting the anniversary of the late Sir John Alcock’s first trans-Atlantic flight. With justice he placed Sir John Alcock’s flight first, and in going on from there to Ross-Smith’s flight to Australia he was taking a chronologically safe enough course, although one might have expected a word for Harry Hawker's glorious Atlantic failure. It was when he placed Sir Alan Cobham’s flight to Australia and back third and Hinkler’s flight to Australia fourth, that he was surely doing less than justice to other brave men whose names are emblazoned on the pages of flying history. If Lord Thomson had been thinking only of British aviators, and counting out De Pinedo, Lindbergh, and other successful foreign trans-Atlantic and world flyers, bis catalogue would still have been far from accurate because of its omission not only of the names of Parer and M’lntosh, who struggled through to Australia in the face of tremendous handicaps, but above all of the name of Kingsford-Smith, whose Pacific flight, if less spectacular than Lindbergh’s Atlantic flight, must rank as its rival on the point of navigational difficulty alone. There has been a strange failure in England, indeed, to apportion due credit for this wonderful flight, with its three gigantic hops across the Pacific, in the face of terrible risk, and it is strange to southern ears, at all events, to have it ignored, especially in conjunction with a plea for co-operation in making the next ten years of aviation more notable than the last.