THE NILE DELTA

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 77, 2 September 1942, Page 3

THE NILE DELTA

HARNESSING OF A FLOOD PERSONALITY OF THE LAND FOR WHICH WE FIGHT Egypt, once again a prize to be fought and suffered for, owes her existence, her personality and her unity to her river. It is not astonishing that the Nile, which is still Rommel's goal, should have been regarded as a mystical being from Heaven, or even a god. Every year, with amazimr. almost friirlitenimr.

with amazing, almost frightening, I punctuality, it renews the miracle of trunsubstantiation, saying to Egypt: “Eat and drink, this is my flesh and this is my blood." There is nothing capricious about ’ the Nile, writes A. W. Sheppard in the ' “Sydney Morning Herald.” It seems r to appreciate its responsibility for the I well-being, nay, the life of Egypt’s millions. In June it carries its liquid mass, which has the colour, virtue, and density of blood right up to the gates of - Assuan. The water, rising just to the ? necessary height, penetrates the very 5 body of the valley through numerous ’ arteries. And so it carries its prec- * ions soil down to the sea. Finally, ex--1 hausled by giving out life, it retires, but does so without haste, without causing 1 any surprise, carelessly leaving long * stretches of sand in the middle of its ? bed. But. although it seems to die in October, it is only to come to life * again in the following year. By this !, double rhythm of life and death its re_ t affirms its divinity. 1 UNDER CONTROL i The worshipped river, however, has 1 in turn had to give way to progress. In : days gone by it was allowed to pour i its floods, unchecked, all ever Egypt, on the fields and the roads, and then for many months the drought reigned „ i again. Now the energy which in past generations was used to erect colossal , statues in honour of the river god is used to harness the mighty forces and . to direct its powers to the utmost good. L To-day the bed of the river has been dammed: its waters have been impris- ■! oned, a system of sluice gates has put 5 the water at the disposal of the fellah all the year round. The Assuan dam. for example, geometrically and indusj trially beautiful, ejected out of ancient (• red stone which deposits of the Nile and . a fierce sun have made, controls the I paths of the mighty river. But the ; dams on the Nile do not exercise a ' fierce control: it is more in the nature of the slightly tightened rein which one ; gives to a well-loved horse. In the Delta mornings the -villages L lie close to the ground. A few very , scanty trees, still very far away in the l’ night, rise up in silhouettes against a I smoky-grey sky.. Millions of cotton , stalks blend into the surroundings, im- ; , perceptibly. The Delta is motionless ; and expectant. The dogs are silent, ’ | but the cocks have begun to crow. | j And then, suddenly, the sun emerges j enormous, clear and flaming. The birds awaken and till the air with shrill gaiety and movement. Villages come to life. Pink-bellied buffaloes wend their way to the fields; straightpoised women set out in groups to the , canal, bearing upon their heads goldedged water jars. But this pleasant pastoral scene lasts but an hour. LIGHT AND SUN ! The daylight from the Delta sky is like no other light. It has great variations. In Alexandria it is clear and bright, but to those coming from Cairo to Luxor it seems pale and life less. It hardly deigns to animate the shadows. It gives up the struggle in. front of a blind or a wall. The sea, air. and dampness are its enemies. It has been tamed and baffled. In Cairo it is gold and copper coloured. It fills the atmosphere with a fierce vibration, and wears down everyone and everything. It is like an acid. In Luxor, in the Valley of the Kings, the light is incomparably beautiful. At dawn the river unfolds a cloth of pale green silk on which move the light marks of the sails. The sky is a thin blue awning. One simply absorbs the light through every pore. In the evening shades of mauve and ash-pink give the Libyan cliffs the infinite delicacy of a pastel. All through the Egyptian summer the sun inflicts its presence for endless hours at a time. The whole plain, swooning from the conflict with a never-satiated deity, cracks and is reduced to dust. The blue of the ski fades from the excessive light. A sycamore becomes a burning bush. A palm-tree spreads its fiery fan. An ordinary dry mud wall, a sakkia wheel lying on the edge of a cotton field, the silhouette of a buffalo or a flock of sheep raising the dust on their path take part in a vibration which gives them a poignant beauty. Rivulets adorn the fields with gold and silver braid. From south to north the wide river unfolds the most sparkling of belts. Even the air is not impalpable, as elsewhere. It offers the resistance of liquid or of fire; you feel its weight on your,faces and your clothes. It does not caress. It engraves and bores like a tool. And when, finally, you lie down, dead beat, behind a wall, deafened by a crackling of sparks or streaming with sweat, you feel that you have been struggling with a living, pursuing god. RESPITE Such is the Egyptian sun. At least so it appears to the fragile eyes of an Australian soldier, used to variations of light and shade. For one born in Egypt, however, the sun never is a hostile god. His heart calls out like Aken- i aton: "O thou, who giveth life in rising and spreadeth death by setting.” The softness of the evenings is poignant. At. sundown you experience a feeling of relief. Faces relax and eyes travel slowly over the landscape which also appears to be getting back its breath. But this r 4 ofnent of respite is all too brief, for the division between night and day is extremely short. ' Hardly has the sun gone down before ■ the entire plain is submerged in the * same shadow. You feel suddenly lost ■ and alone, far away and in empty e space. And then—the night enfolds " you. ■