July 1951 School Magazine

July. 1951

July. 1951

:Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Ma gazine

Brisb a n e Girls' Grammar School Ma gazine

COLDNESS

rain and rivers took up the story of the Jenolon Caves. Lime- stone, or calcium carbonate, is worn by the weather over a long period of years; and the Jenolan Ri~er has worn o_ut caves in the mountains two hundred and hfty feet above 1ts level today. When the caves were made, then came the slow growth to their present loveliness. The rain ~ater that falls above the caves is charged with traces of carbon dioxide from the air, and this, through countless ages ha s dissolved the limestone, forming calcium bicarbonate. This solution seeps through to the caves and the calcium-bicarbon- ate breaks up again into calcium carbonate and water, and thus, by redeposition of this substance, the beautiful, glitter- ing, stalagmites and stalactites are formed. In a pure form the columns and shawls are of a glittering, pristine whiteness. However, other minerals in the earth ~ive rise to a great many colour gradations of beauty. Thus uon oxide will give shades ranging from deep brownish red, to light brown, according to its amount, while admixtures of clay give rise to creamily coloured formations . A few years ago I visit~d the Jenolan Caves and went through about eight of them. Stairs have been built in the caves and concealed electric lighting illuminates them. The cave which I consi'dered the most beautiful was the Temple of Baal, where is a thin gossamer-like shawl of translucent beauty, purest white on the inside, with its outer rim tipped with the most faint and delicate tint of pink. It is called Gabriel's wing. A large square stone in the centre thickly coated with glistening crystals, is called the Altar. In the "Orient" cave were graceful shawls thickly veined with red. In the part of the Lucas cave called the cathedral, where graceful columns and arches glimmer, one of our party sang a hymn, his voice filling the whole cavern with glorious music. There are many other beauties in the caves, still reflections of the red and crecim arabesques of the roof in the motionless river, huge pillars, strange little formations that come out at odd angles from the walls, gleaming sweeps and falls, towers, minarets, and spires, frozen into cold flash- ing immobility. There, seeing the marvels that nature has so slowly wrought, life's grievances and ambitions shrink to their right perspective; one realises that time, space, truth itself, are all relative, and have being only through us and in us. -JANET W. ANTCLIFF, VL 40

With winter now wrapping its icy fingers around every- ihing in sight, we know a great deal about coldness. It is coldness that makes the classrooms like refrigerators and makes changing for gym. a heroic feat. According to the dictionary "coldness' ' is "the relative absence of .heat or warmth". However this concise sentence gives no hint of the physical miseries associated with cold- ness. I am therefore going to tell a little story about "ice- bergs". Now everybody knows , or should know, that "icebergs" are those people whose proud boast it is that they take a cold shower every morning of the year. "Yes, it is cold, but of course I have a cold shower every morning-yes, all through winter too . Nothing like it to stop colds and 'flu-never spent a day in bed with 'flu these past iwenty years." Unfortunately for these people, I .know the inside of this story about cold showers every morning. You see, I once resolved to be an "iceberg" for a whole year, too. Through summer it was no bother at all. All I had i:o do was say, "One, two, three, under" . Once I was under it was very pleasant and refreshing. In winter however it was a different matter altogether. I used to crawl out of :bed every morning at twenty to seven and, with teeth chatter- ing and hands blue with cold, I would wend my way slowly io the bathroom. I would turn on the cold shower tap, and ihen hesitatingly clamber over the side of the bath. However, when I was about a foot away from the cascading water, a slight spray would start to sprinkle me. The water would be like melted ice. ·with an agonized moan, like that of a wounded tiger, I would desperately turn off the cold tap. For a few moments I would stand there unresolved. It would be a great blow to my pride to have to admit to my friends that I had shirked my morning cold shower. Then the light of genius would flash over my face . With trembling fingers I would turn on the hot water tap. The steaming water would come tumbling down. Gratefully I would stand there letting the hot water thaw my frozen body. :Eventually I'd grasp the hot water tap and wrench it off. Now only the cold water tap would be on. Gradually the