The Huron Expositor, 1978-06-15, Page 21•
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A RUNNER — 'Dianne McCallum of the Winthrop
Oilerettes makes a run in a game against Milverton
at the Dublinfest ball tornament Saturday' The local
team lost to Milverton.- (Expositor Photo) . _
MMMIVIM GOOD -- Lours and Tkerese Maloney dig
into. the meal at Dublin Lions Dublinfest oh the
weekend. About $1000 was raised at the event,
according to,Libn Dot, MacRae.
(Expositor Photo)
home."
(Lampman)
Baseball, food
and talent
bring people
to Dublinfest
OVER' WE GO-- Ernie Fleming, left, and Jim
Snowdon, both Dublin Lion's, take care of barbecuing
pork chops at Dublinfest Saturday. ( Expositor Photo) STARSTRUCK — Little Pammy Elliott of St. Marys
had a toygh time at Dublinfest Saturday night trying
to eat her cake and keep an eagle eye on the Lions
talent show. (Expositor, Photo)
AW MOM — Little Lawrence Flana gan was a little
shy as he watched his Mom, Mary Therese, left, at
bat for the Manley M ashers in the Dublinfest
Ball Tournament Saturday. . (Expositor Phcito)
THE HURON EXPOSITOR, JUNE 15, 1978 [Second Section Pages 1A — 8A]
WE'RE HUNGRY — Robbig •Brown 11, and Peter'
Ball, '10, both of Dublin were ready to eat at the
Dublinfest barbecue Saturday night.
A BIT OF A CHAT — The Dublin Lions Dublinfest barbecue on Saturday night was
a chance for friends and neighbours to. meet and have a good time. Talking here
were Joe Looby, left, and Hibbert deputy reeve Henry Harburn. (Expositor Photo)
Remembering . .
READY TO GO — These Manley Mashers took it' easy on the bench during a
Dublinfest ball game Saturday. (EXpositor Photo)
In the good old summertime
By. W. G. Strong •
Summer comes officially On the morning of
June .21 signalled by the summer solstice
when the sun is directly over the Tropic of
Cancer in our northern hemisphere and we.are
well on our way toward July and August, long
considered the summer months. The
lengthened daylight-span, once noticeable
after the middle of March, begins to. diminish
in its 'annual southrward trek.
Each season has its own light. Fall days are
golden and hazy; winter mornings are frosty
and silvered; spring dawns are spaikling and
alluring; summer days dazzle with sunlight
and heat.
As dawn paints the eastern sky with its faint
halo, the stars melt in the wakening day. This
is the cue for the birds to 'bestir themselves
among the trees still dark-edged against the
morning sky. Soon _a chorus of birdsongs
ushers in the summer day as they leave their
nests in' search of the elusive insects. In the
early morn, fresh, green, cool grasses sparkle
with dew that brings Out the full scent of wild
flowers. The air is laden with ,the perfume of
clover, of shaggy Queen Anne's [.,ace and the
dainty blue chicory. While spring is the time
for woodland wild flowers, summer is,the time
for meadow blooms. From early spring
through summer 'till frost, wild flowers
dominate the meadows. Here the fragrance
lingers all- day long -but is—heaviest after -a
heavy dew or fall of rain. Here one may behold
the effects of the passing wind as tall grass
catches it in ripples and tosses it back and
forth.
The summer days are come again:
Once more the glad earth yields
Her golden wealth of ripening grain
And breath of clever fields."
(Longfellow)
Farm Wheels
In memory one can hear the old farm wagon
wheels rattle and clatter and smell the sweet
fragrance of alfalfa piled high on the stout
wagon bed as it sways with the movement
over the uneVen terrain. Atop like a monarch
on his throne rides the country lad with the
warn.) sunshine beating down on his battered
straw hat, his freckled, tanned face.
"The scent, of new-mown hay, how
sweet it lies
Where e'er in clovered meadows sun-
light plays
Rejoicing in the radiant glory of July
Aglow with all the, bliss of perfect
summer days.
Here in the hills of home, hearts under-
stand
The ties of love that bind them to the •
land."
(King)
Summer is the time for sunshine, warm
earth and the fulfilment of the promise of
spring. Now the warm middle age of,--the
year, the heyday of the season with everything
voluptuously in growth. The earth, ripe with
its products as well as its promises, smiles
with full contentment. While the noonday sun
pours its radiance into nature's crucible, in
full and perfect form, she showers her gifts-
with lavish prodigality. There is that ineffable
charm of lush foliage, fragrant flowers,
wooing winds, dancing shadows, wistful skies
and warbling birds.
Here and there the grain fields start to ripen
although most of them still show a silver
sheen. Young corn,shoulder high, emerald
green. with leaves like drawn swords, advance
bravely down the rows. In a few weeks the
ripening effect of August creeps across the
land somewhat hastened by an increase in
temperature but ever typical of the season, No
harvest is a brief isolated completion in any
one year BUT a continuing evetiT Trom the first
cutting of the hay, through the harvest-time of
wheat and barley, rye and oats to the
abundance of beans and corn. Canada, in
part, at least, is a vast grain-bin, a grand
storehouse desperately helping soothe and
assuage the pangs of hunger of the world's
starving millions.
"A summer lane entices one to Stray,
To leave the mere prosaic walks of life,
To half forget the worries of the day
And prove a soothing balm for pain or
strife."
(Nash)
Who can resist the living beauty of a
country land in summer? Every few sfeps you
may be fortunate enought to see a meadow-
larki bash a golden breast. as it rises almost
bullet-like from its nest. On a gravelled knoll a
**aggaml*•...
killdeer nervously struts, protective of its
young and ever leery of company. A bobolink
darts skyward in trilling song. The air radiates
with birdsong and their rounded notes are as
delightful to the listening ear as their bright
plumage is appealing to the eager eye.
Apple tree
"Whence came this solitary apple tree in
the fencerow?" you muse. The boughs bend
toward the ground, the lowest within a few
feet of touching it. They bend as if by habit
from many years of bearing their jewelled
burden of apples. One is fascinated .by the
gentle curve of the fragile bough weighted
with the ripening fruit. Every spring, honey
bees have discovered the glory of the blooms
and have come in swarms to make a sound like
that of distant rushing water. Here, in early
fall, brown wasps will feast on the fallen,
over-ripened fruit. Long ago an apple seed
sprouted from a core carelessly tossed away
by a youth. Because of its straight young trunk
and because it stood directly in the fencerow,
it was allowed to stay to form a convenient
fence-post. A piece of rusted fencewire is still
fastened by a staple almost bark-encrusted.
Summer is vacation time. School is-out and
youngsters cavort joyously. Their country
cousins once ran barefooted across meadows
or pasture land to paddle in the creek, swim in
the deep hole or catch minnows.. Jumping
fences and climbing trees and performing
deeds of daring were a part of their lives. At
times they might be found picking wild
strawberries by the roadside or filching ripe
raspberries from a prickly stem.
For those urban dwellers - fortunate
enough to have access 'to a cottage by a
shimmering lake and sandy beaches, summer
means misted dawns, searing of ternoons,
slow. dusk freckled with fireflies and warm
nights infested with mosquitoes or blackflies.
One's sleep may be suddenly broken by an
occasional thunderstorm cracking overhead.
Bathing-suits and faded sneakers, open shirts,
straw hats and tall, Cool drinks are the order of
the day With an abundance of sunshine under
blue skieS. It is a tithe for relaxation, freedom
and joyous living.
Drowsy
For the Stay-at-home, summer is drowsy
warmth, the season of gardening, • weeding,
hoeing, spraying , watering and keeping a
watchful eye on the nibbling rabbit or foraging
woodchuck. For his reward 'there are
delectable young potatoes, fresh green peas,
crisp lettuce, cool cucumbers, and tart
tomatoes for the salad bowl. There may be
chilled strawberries or raspberries smothered
in fresh cream for an evening dessert. The
provident housewife stores her surplus of
garden, vegetables and fruits in the deep-
freeze or prepares savoury pickles for the cold
storage room. Her kitchen smells of•spices,
brown sugar and vinegar.
Loveliest h our of the day is at sunset.
Behind is the work of the day,, its heat, its
burden's. Evening is a time to relax, to rest, to
meditate, to listen. A sound from overhead
breaks the tranquil stillness as a peevish
nighthawk in „solo flight suddenly swoops
earthward. Chimney swifts and swallows dart
hither and thither., From roadside pools, the
chanting frogs break forth in chorus. In the
distance can be heard the plaintive, liquid
note of a whip:spoor-will calling to its mate.
There may be a faint rustle in the tall grass as
little creatures warily pass on their way to
their respective shelters.
The day is growing late, the last dying
embers of the setting sun turn the western sky
to red.Trees silhouetted against` the horizon
cast their lengthening shadows across the
landscape, Shadows that waltz and sway -as -a
breeze stirs the tree tops. Random airs scatter
flower fragrance lavishly like incense, rich and
rare. Then comes twilight when day and night
are imperceptibly linked, fence and field grow
indistinct.. Above the world's dark border rise
the night lights.
"The stars that singly, then in flocks
appear,
Like jets of silver from the violet dome,
So wonderful, so many and so near
And then ,the gold moon to light me