The Snow Bush 



1 T is no wonder that the red gums rear their heads so proudly, 

 ^ no wonder that they blush a rosy pink with pleasure ; for in 

 the early spring they are the guardians of the most fascinating 

 parts of all the bush. They do not crowd together as some 

 trees do, but leave wide, open spaces beneath their branches, 

 where the smaller things can grow in freedom. And grow 

 they do, with a will and a vigour that tell of the rich bounty 

 of the good brown earth. 



Here and there a young turpentine sends up his head, or 

 a she-oak turns a thousand dew-wet needles to the morning 

 sun, while every now and then a clump of young gum 

 suckers gleams a rosy red. But the chief joys of the red gums, 

 the treasure which they guard so proudly, is the snow-bush. 

 All the open spaces beneath their boughs are white with its 

 blossoms; a thousand thousand tiny snowy daisies shine from 

 every bush. Sometimes they form a small, almost solid white 

 mass, a foot or so from the ground ; sometimes the bushes 

 stand tall above your head, their long graceful sprays waving 

 gently as you pass. Their delicate fragrance, of a honey- 

 sweetness, floats on the clear air, and it is little wonder that 

 the bees drone drowsily amongst the blossoms. 



For weeks past the bush has been a-gleam with these white 

 flowerets. Close beside them grows the little myrtle-leafed 



