Great pines overshadowed a still, eddying pool.

A number of brown butterflies hovered over the water, and small trout floated like spotted feathers just under the surface.

Drowsy summer enfolded the sylvan scene.
Glenn knelt at the edge of the brook, and, plunging his hands in, he splashed like a huge dog and bathed his hot face and head, and then turned to Carley with gay words and laughter, while he wiped himself dry with a large red scarf.

Carley was not proof against the virility of him then, and at the moment, no matter what it was that had made him the man he looked, she loved it.
"I'll sit in the sun," he said, designating a place.

"When you're hot you mustn't rest in the shade, unless you've coat or sweater.