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LAND OF SUNSHINE
Although this is the name given to the extensive state of Queensland, I am
only referring to the northern tropical region which extends within a 100 mile
radius of Cairns, the hub of the tourist industry.
One day you could be glorying in the magnificence of the forests with their
dense jungle-growth, their vines, orchids and ferns, the next you could be lazing
on the island of the Great Barrier Reef. This is a land of ever-changing contrasts
where one never wearies of the surroundings because there is always something
new and different to see. The Atherton Tableland, with its temperate climate,
is the centre of the tobacco, peanut and timber industries and, as well, picturesque
resorts such as Lake Eacham, Lake Barrine, Tinaroo Dam, Tully and Barron Falls
and the Gloomy Crater can be viewed.
There are so many magnificent scenes that it is difficult to determine which
could be the better, and this area has more to commend than mere beauty. The
vast canefields are responsible for much of Queensland's wealth and the forests
yield good timber for their mills to process. Although the small towns originated
from clearings in the mountainous scrub, they are now prosperous once again due
to the thriving canefields.
The beaches are quiet and shady, the surf calm and the atmosphere is
relaxing. Such beaches wind and stretch along this coastline, giving an impression
of a golden ribbon with rows upon rows of shells and pebbles. The islands, with
their lazy coconut palms and colourful scrubs, are fascinating and many happy
days are spent there exploring the reefs.
Thus the tropical paradise of North Queensland is equal to any tourist resort
in the world.
HELEN ROTHWELL.

"CONTRAST"
Is this a swamp? where wild bees hum
Throughout the sunlit day.
Ere evening falls they make their heavy way
Towards the gum-tree, dying, grey.
But there's another, sweeter note,
And oft-times have I heard it float
Among the trees.
This is the breeze,
That tosses mighty branches tall.
And gently lifts and lulls the small,
Soft wisps of grass.
Is this a swamp? where lives the song
Of birds that never tire of singing
All day long;
Of insects chattering busily, ever,
In a throng.
Where the dragon-fly flits gaily by,
Then rests on the reflected sky —
A man-made lake, and clad
With many a soft, green lily-pad.
Where the toil-free draught horse stands
Is this a swamp? where orchards spread,
And droop their heavy boughs with full, rich fruit.
Where autumn skies are lilac-blue

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