Gerda was now fast asleep. Stretched out upon her back, she lay as motionless as the shadows about her, one arm curved beneath the fair head and the other flung upon a bed of moss. Wolf sat with his arms hugging his knees, and his back against a sycamore trunk.
The weather had been good for the wheat that summer, and not too scorching to the grass; so that what he looked at now, as he let his eyes wander over that great level of expanse towards Glastonbury, was a vast chessboard of small green fields, surrounded by pollarded elms of a yet darker colour, and interspersed by squares of yellow stubble. (Powys)