Wellesley College - Legenda Yearbook (Wellesley, MA)

Page 17 text:

JUNE DAYS AT WELLESLEY. ' I ask myself, Is this a dream? Will it all vanish into air? Is there a land of such supreme And perfect beauty anywhere? ■ HEEE is no time at Wellesley so rare as a day in June. Nature is coquettish there in the springtime; she realizes that she need not be first in the lists to vanquish all com- petitors, and when elms and maples are ar- raying themselves in all their spring brav- ery of green, and apple and cherry trees are proudly tossing their pink and white plumes, her sturdy oaks give only a hint of the beauty to come. When their leaves do unfold, it is as a miracle of loveliness. Firs, pines, and spruces, like sombre sentries in uniforms of green, so dark that they are almost black, stand guard over their gayer neighbors, stately elms, reminding one of England ' s rich coloring, grace- ful willows, slender white birches, bending caressingly over the water ' s edge, purple beeches, a dash of color upon which the eye delights to linger, maples, and, king of them all, the Wellesley oak. Who can describe the coloring of the oak ' s spring robe? Tender greens like the first unfolding of ferns in the heart of the wood, green with a hint of gray, like the olive leaf by the side of far-off Como, a faint blush of pink, like the exquisite tinting of a sea-shell, white which is white with a touch of green, or is it green with a touch of white? When the sky is gray and the wind bends the tree-tops, while they whisper their never-ending musical secrets, the shores of Lake Waban are a symphony in green; but when the sun bursts from behind the cloud, touching the distant blue hills with white light, it lends its color to the landscape and brings out unsuspected tints, until the gray, pink, and white rival the green in charm. Not until sunset does the picture reach per- 9