I rode with thee upon the dizzy height, where the woods lay below us like potato fields.

What below arose, like the smoke from a charcoal-burner's kiln, was a cloud in the air.

I saw the Alpine chain, like floating cloud mountains; below mist, above dark shapes with glancing glaciers." "Yes, Otto," said Rosalie, and her eyes sparkled with youthful fire; "so looks the Alpine chain when one goes from Le Locle to Neulfchatel: so did I see it when I descended the Jura for the list time.

It was in August.

The trees, with their autumnal foliage, stood yellow and red between the dark firs; barberries and hips grew among the tall fern.
The Alps lay in such a beautiful light, their feet blue as heaven, their peaks snow-white in the clear sunshine.