too BUSH DAYS 



speaks of blossoming done, and the approach of an early 

 harvest. 



But sweet though garden and orchard are, it is out in the 

 bush that September has been most bountiful. Every tree 

 and shrub and little weed is clothed in beauty. On the 

 heathlands the wealth of sweetness is bewildering to the 

 senses. Tall bushes of the lemon-coloured phebalium scent 

 the air with a citron perfume ; beneath them the prickly, white 

 leucopogon sheds a nutty odour, softening the aromatic harsh- 

 ness of the native roses which start up from the sand all 

 round. Beneath the shelter of the taller bushes a sister 

 boronia flourishes finely, and sends up masses of bright pink 

 flowers through the branches of the protecting bush. Pink 

 is the order of the day where gold does not prevail. The 

 eriostemons daintest perhaps of all the spring blossoms 

 are showing masses of pink stars amongst the rocks and sand; 

 tall sprays of the pink epacris stand in regiments amongst 

 the green tea-trees, and wherever the land dips down to a 

 hollow, sprengelia spreads a rosy carpet over the marshy 

 places. On the uplands the woolly buds of the dwarf apple 

 are flushed to a deep crimson with pleasure at the knowledge 

 of the creamy blossoms they will soon unfold blossoms 

 which will intoxicate the bees by their wealth of sweetness. 



In some places the reign of the pink is disputed by the 

 yellow, where the dillwynia, pultenia, bossiaea and many 

 others wave golden blossoms which dance and flutter on the 



