In the lakes were hundreds of wild fowl.

The sky was a sky of Constable--silvery-white clouds, floating athwart a dome of clear Italian blue.

The soil here must be extraordinarily fertile.

The woods and groves are dense beyond belief.

Cut down what you like, the growth soon overtakes you, as lush almost as in the tropics.
There was a great cyclone here a year or two ago, which prostrated in a night over a hundred thousand trees.