ATMOSPHERE OF PISA

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 13, 16 January 1936, Page 2

ATMOSPHERE OF PISA

ONE OF THE LOVELIEST PLACES IN ITALY For th most pari., that sense of peace, that placid mcMncholy, which comesto soem the natural environment of Pisa, harmonising whatever is upav, active, and stirring in it all remains, not only in its one enchanting comer, of past ages, is a kind of intangible charm, mt de up Oif many elements and softly transfiguring them: the languid evenings when the fight begins to <*omc out along the river, the lovely curve of its course between red-rdofed and green-shuttered houses, the boats that ifloa-t down helped by oars and sail, the isight of misty hills beyond the water; sunsets that burn the sky to soft fire above the roofs; and the wind that iconics up th river every night from the isea, tcimpened to softness as it drifts through Pisa. A large part of the beauty of Pisa ■comes to it from the Arno, which winds through it from end to end, and can ■be followed into the T eafy country, by a grassy path which goes beside it, •always within sight of the hills, which, on a misty evening it Alarch, arc like •banks of solid smoke. Under a grey sky, in the faint mist that veils the ■outlines of the hills, spring budding overhead in the trees and starring their browu branches with green, amomg which tiny bats fly restlessly, the night ico-mes on gently, with a peaceful and ■silighty mournful charm. Coming back, T saw the long curved line of the ’Lung •Arno, the brown and yellow and green •of the houses under a low-hanging thunder cloud about to burst; a rich, deep, complex effect of colour, sombre and with a dull sort of intensity, as if some fierce heat smouldered their. After a rainstorm in the hills the river awakens violently, and rushes downwards, swollen, yellow, and curdled, creased and wried into wrinkles and cross-eddies. At night, looking down on it from a high window, the water is oily black, streaked with white Where the light strikes on it one can sec tho tide flowing swiftly; but for the most part, it is a black pit of water dividing the town. If you follow the river to the sea you will come to one. of the loveliest places in Italy, BoVca d’Arno, where the Arno freshens into little waves as it meets the sea-waves and. mingles with them. On one side of the river the sand begins, and beyonl the grass there arc pine trees, green to blackness as they thicken and cut off the sky. On the other side of the river (here is a flat ' green marsh, ending upon a dark line O'f trees. Above there arc dark peaks against the sky, hills white with snow where they rise into the white rainVloudiS. Towards Pisa the hills darken, softening into gentler curves. And it seems as if nothing supremely beautiful in Nature is not here. Here, at this lovely meeting-place, are hills, woods, vallevs, a river and the sen.—From “Cities of Italy.” bv Arthor Symons.