The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET, AUCKLAND SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1928 “THE CROWN O’ THE YEAR”

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 544, 22 December 1928, Page 8

The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET, AUCKLAND SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1928 “THE CROWN O’ THE YEAR”

PRIMITIVE man, dependent upon the constancy of the weather * for his life’s necessities, had good cause to grumble at plenitude of rain and dearth of sunshine. But for us the weather’s vagaries have little fundamental importance: had seasons cannot inflict great miseries or force us to tighten belts and dream sadly of creaking dinner tables. An old tyrant has lost his power and grown to be no more than a theme, frequently seized upon, to bridge the awkward silences in casual conversations. Prolonged rains and droughts may cause the farmer anxious days, hut for the most part, the populate, like all good philosophers, can bear temporary misfortune with equanimity. Yet for the city inhabitants there is joy in the heart when the ripening breath of summer sweeps over the land. True, that the greatest appeal is made to the pleasure-loving, but all people must have their share of that weakness, and it is only propitious weather that makes the simplest and finest indulgence possible. It is now mid-summer. Yesterday, according to the almanacs, was the longest day of the year, but to-day there is only one minute less of sunshine, or possible sunshine: for even at “The Crown O’ the Year” the sun has sometimes failed to take full measure of its opportunities. The day may be bine and brilliant, or it may be dull, but we know that the time of sunshine is at hand. There is no perfection in humanity itself, so there should be no railing anger against summer if the sun fails us for a day. To do that is as had as cursing the rose because her beauty is impermanent. Let us revel with the rose in her rich, scent-bloss'-'l hours, and with summer on the golden days.

What does summer mean for the city? . . .freedom from the imprisoning masonry of offices; hours in the open air; the hot kiss of the sun on skins white and skins bronze, and the cool exhilaration of sea swimming. * For others there is joy to he had in swift yachts heeling to the breeze, and to them the sound of rushing water is the sweetest music of the earth. In peaceful hays about the gulf they will come to anchor, and along the beaches they will note the scarlet glory of the gnarled, sea-loving-pohutukawas. Motorists, in these leisured Christmas days, will take themselves to all parts of the country. They will see the pleasant rural lands slumbering in the shimmer of the noonday heat. They will know the richest of earth’s joys when the travel of the day is done, and coming to rest they will feel the fresh winds of evening blow by, see the glory of the sunset, and think perhaps of the unaffected beauties of the world as the last gallant colouring fades from the sky. Those who make their own camping place will see the large summer stars, and hear the call of the birds of the night. There will be heavy, breathless summer darkness and warm tranquillity. Many who cannot venture so far by sea and road will content themselves with days on pleasant beaches scattered from North Head far down into the Gulf. There, drowsing in the sunshine on a “narrow strip of idle land that only idlers know,” they, too, will have their rest from cares that beset them in city ways._ Modern man, true enough, is not wholly dependent on sunshine for mater' 1 prosperity; but he is sadly dependent upon summer for his joys . . . summer, “The Crown O’ the Year,” and m these days let us not think that it dies so soon.