Oak Grove Coburn High School - Oak Leaves Yearbook (Vassalboro, ME)

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OAK LEAVES 1945 BACKS OF QUAD FROM GARDEN IN XVINTIZR BEAUTY'S STRONGHOLD Beyond these towers Stretch the mountains Surging between the valleys, So blue in the sunlight, Like a mighty ocean Rolling to our feet, Breaking beneath the summit, Falling back and leaping Like the insistent, white-lipped Breakers, beating the rocky shoresg Like the hungry, frenzied Wolfpack, leaping at their quarry. Throw yourselves, mountains, Bitter with your burden Of civilization, at our Peaceful, smiling height. Spend your strength in Leaping, never, never Reaching even to the Low-flung shadow of 0ur crimson western tower. 10

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OAK LEAVES 1945 GROWTH Life of the young and the old alike is similar to the mist of an early morn. It hides that which lies ahead of us until a greater power comes to break through the uncertainty and to render visible that which we wish to attain. Life is a gradual transformation from the obscurity of our hopes to their radiant actuality. MARY LOU BRAINARD, '45, MY REVERENCE The clouds, the sky The birds, on high, All nature wide and free. These, God, are nearest thee. The humming bees The arched trees Above the fiow'rs lowly- This is my chapel holy. J. FRANZ, '45, CALLING I fly on wings of silver In the deep, dark heavens of blue I'm lost in clouds of wonder And rainbows of varied hue. The rain may come down in torrents The thunder crash and roar But I am in God's own land I dip my wings at His door. PHYLLIS CLARK, '45. 1. BLUE HYACINTHS Small, blue, berry-like flowers are grape-hyacinths. They seem to hold the reflection of a deep sky among their soft, green leaves. These miniature grapes hold the cool, deep blue of a wave-tossed ocean. Such a color is so refreshing! When I look into one of these tiny blossoms, my fancy takes me floating on a cloud, through a deep, blue sky. I drift on airy seas to visit far places, and climb to reach the heaven. They say that small things are often the most beautiful. I wish they bloomed all summer. Spring is such a short time in which to enjoy them. JEANAHUMASON, '47. 9

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OAK LEAVES 1945 These towers erect as soldiers- And far-seeing as any dreamer- Hold at bay all turmoil, The fretful world twisting Unrested at their feet. Oh world beyond the mountains, Men swearing in the valleys, Even your cries are lost In murmurs among the pines Singing upon this summit. You may look to our towers, But not climb the height, Lift your heart to our lighted Turrets, but only kneel at their feet. For this is the stronghold of Beauty! And she is jealous of her peace. Men among the surging mountains Remember always that these towers Keep the stronghold of bright Beauty, Tread you softly by here And never break her peace. NANCY KEEFER SPIERS, '41.' THE PUEBLO OF SANTA BARBARA This small pueblo in the highlands is famous because it has a very big market on Tuesdays. It is a little white village with a small adobe church, a convent, and a court house that serves at the same time as a prison, post- office and other things. The market-place is in front of the church. The Indians from different pueblos have to start long before sunrise and walk miles and miles to arrive rhere early in the morning to find a good place to put their merchandise. Then, they sit on a small stool and wait for the customers to buy their pottery, textiles, baskets, candles and candy. In the middle of the street, there is a big fountain, made of stone, with a strange figure carved on it. There the Indians come to fill their small mud pitchers and big jars, and carry water to their homes. On Sunday morning they get up about 4 o'clock to be able to go to church at 5 o'clock mass. Some of them also go to a later mass. Since it is very cold in the hills where they live, when they go out they wrap themselves with big ponchos and blankets, made in many colors and different designs. They wear their best costumes, which are made of silk with different colors. The women's blouses have a great deal of work as they are woven by hand, 'FSpring song from an Alumna in the Service ar a distant post. 11