mogford

Heinrich Heine, in his exuberant Reisebilder, may have depicted scenes full of old world interest, abounding in references to castles, witches, giants, runic legends, Rhine maidens, and other folklore, but one may venture to doubt whether his pictures are more varied, more entertaining, or more widely interesting that the enchanting panorama of earth, sky, and sea that is opened out along the undulating coastline of this our

Land of distance, dust and drought.

To the observant traveller those pictures come and go in such bewildering profusion that no single view is ever precisely like the one preceding it. Rivers, lakes, and mountains may present general similarities, but we soon discern differences and characteristics that stamp each picture with its own loveliness, individuality, and charm.

What pen, brush, or camera can present that particular and captivating nuance of reality that is momentarily flashed on the retina of the beholder?

How shall I catch and retain the first impressionist view of the passing scene, and attempt to reproduce it on paper for others to comprehend its beauty? The task seems hopeless. How shall I find any image on my mental photographic plate that can be converted or translated into cold type?

The gorgeous effects of light and colour will ever remain in my memory. Now, it is the sapphire ocean depths, now the alluring yellow sands, the dazzling cumulus clouds, or the unclouded blue firmament, the rich tints of the virgin forest, or the cultivated green of the crops on the hillside—a chain of beauty forming an endless series of vistas of beauty and brightness that can never be forgotten.