and yonder the hills appear; these are but uplands.
The nearest and highest has a green rampart,
visible for a moment against the dark sky,
and then again wrapped in a toga of misty cloud.
Some chance movement has been noticed by the nearest bird [lapwing],
and away they go at once as if with the same wings,
sweeping overhead, then to the right, then to the left, and then back again,
till at last lost in the coming shower. …
~ seasonal1 haiku inspired by the essays of Richard Jefferies
From: Sweeping the Sky