Excerpt from Sons of the Morning
Above unnumbered sisters she arose, an object noteworthy even amid these splendid aisles, where, spun from the survival of the best endowed, fabrics of ancient forest enveloped the foothills of the Moor and belted heather and granite with great woodlands. A dapple of dull silver marked her ascension and glimmered upwards through the masses of her robe. From noble girth of moss-grown trunk she sprang; her high top was full of a silky summer song; while sunbeams played in the meshes of her million leaves, and cascades of amber light, born from her ripening harvest, streamed over the dark foliage. She displayed in unusual perfection the special symmetry of her kind, stood higher than her neighbours, and fretted the blue above with pinnacles of feathering aborescence, whose last, subtle expression, at that altitude, escaped the eye.
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