High above, a solitary crow flaps deliberately against the steely clouds
As I walk with similar deliberation through the cold wet grass
The dew quickly coats my boots and the tip of my nose grows colder
From the early morning autumnal chill.

Bramble bushes having borne one fruit now sparkle with another
It seems a million spiders have spread a million webs
Each reflecting and together as if to make a celebration tree
Nature far ahead of man.

Walking high over the still, dark lake, a sudden splash
However quick my eye, all I see are the widening ripples
And my face reflected in the silvered water
The lives beneath stay strangers to me.

A fresh wind slowly builds over the low and level land
Which is made more even by the distant hills
Bringing a rising sibilance from the massed ranks of reeds
As if a thousand snakes were sharing natures friendly tongue.