Along the Road

Waikato Times, Volume 119, Issue 19911, 13 June 1936, Page 13 (Supplement)

Along the Road

ATE TO-NlGllT. All day I have been up at what we Ciill the bush farm. It is a property some miles up the Valley. ownmi by a brother of the lady of the house. Evidently he has not the funds. or the intention. to develop the place. and we have put most of the cows there. There is a fair amount of feed. and splendid shelter. so that they “ill be all right. Some fences needed attention so first thing this morning] set urr. liml a good morning in the crisp air. and about mid-day boiled the billy in the lean-to shed. Then. sitting in the sun. the pup and I had our meal. and while I enimell a pipe he set out on a hunt. Not that he ever gets anything. but he seems to enjoy it. I was late coming back; late and hungry. but when I came round a bend of the road, on a hillside. I had to stop. The Valley was tilled with a thick mist. and the moonlight made it all look very beautiful. From the .T low hills on one side to the higher range .. on the other there was a sea of mist. un—broken. as hu- ns 1 couhl see, right down the Valley. 1 was Alone In an Upper World. Somewhere down there were the homes of my friends. the farmhouse amid the trees and my shack. but I could see nothing of them. A great silence‘hud come over the country. Not a breeze stirred. but masses of white moved. or seemed to move. slowly. as it with their own momentum. A few yards down the toad the pup had turned and was looking at me. as it to urge a forward movement. but I wanted to enjoy the sight. Going down the hill I did not suddenly enter into a bank or £O3. Gradually the tight grew dimmer; the mist closed about. and so I walked along the road until I reached the gate. After having something to eat I came over to the shack and lit my tire. It is burning bravely. but outside one can see only a short distance. This little place is isolated.

And its occupant has Just been thinking, or rather, dreaming. Here we are hidden by the mist, and. us usual, I have wondered u. in amumcr svnsv, we are not hidden in

An Occasional Colunm.

(By the Swagger.)

the mists of life. Beyond, up on the hillside. all is clear. The moon is sailing across a cloudless sky, and a few bolcl stars are shining still. One can see miles across country, and look clown on the blanket of white that has hidden the valley. And above the mists of life there may be a world of light and beauty, where the way is clear and peace reigns. They may be known to those who have out-soared the Shadow of our night; the toss of anger and passion, of greed anti envy; the things that shut us in and darken the path along life‘s valley. The other day I saw a reproduction of a photograph taken with infra-red rays. The print stated that it had been taken at a time when the mist matte most of the landscape invisible to the human eye. I should like to know how they harness these rays for such purpose, but whatever the system it is wonderful. The infra-red rays can pierce the fogs, and in somewhat the same‘ way the eyes of the spirit can see through the mists of life. They see the distant goal. \\'ell, whether we would or not, we are all Travellers Through These Mists. Now and again they lift, and we catch a glimpse of a fellow traveller, and wave a greeting, and then we are nlOne again, but cheered by the knowledge that our paths will get closer toward the end of the Journey. I cannot find words to describe the plea—sure I have in thinking that. up the Valley, there is a world of light and peace and beauty. It seems right that it should be so. Those who have spent the day down here probably will agree with the lady of the house that it ts very raw. and that it has been an unpleasant day. They would probably doubt it if I told them or the wonderful night to be found not many miles away, for looking out it does seem that the world Is covered with a thick layer of fog. But, the fact is. that the world of beauty and light ls there. I saw it. And beyond the fogs of life. why not a world of peace and beauty? Perhaps the old singer who spoke of the green pastures and still waters had seen beyond.