"No one ever goes there but myself.

When I have crossed the little old bridge and sit down among the greenness with my book or work, I feel as if there was no world at all.

There is no sound but the rustle of the leaves and the splash of the moor-hens who come to swim about.

They don't seem to be afraid of me, neither do the thrushes and robins.

They know I shall only sit still and watch them.