The slow river running under its bridge reflecting such green that drinking it would be drinking summer itself.
The Book of Atrix Wolfe by Patricia A. McKillip, 1995
You will think me rhapsodizing; but when I am out of doors, especially when I am sitting out of doors, I am very apt to get into this sort of wondering strain. One cannot fix one's eyes on the commonest natural production without finding food for a rambling fancy.
Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
It was an exquisite January morning in which there was no threat of rain, but a grey sky making the calmest background for the charms of a mild winter scene:-- the grassy borders of the lanes, the hedgerows sprinkled with red berries and haunted with low twitterings, the purple bareness of the elms, the rich brown of the furrows.
Daniel Deronda by George Eliot
Edwin Blashfield, Spring Scattering Stars (1927) / Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Notebooks
Edward Robert Hughes, The Princess Out of School (1901) / Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South (1855)
Sleeping in the Forest by Mary Oliver
Winston picked his way up the lane through dappled light and shade, stepping out into pools of gold wherever the boughs parted. Under the trees to the left of him the ground was misty with bluebells. The air seemed to kiss one's skin.
1984 by George Orwell