Near where I was sitting thinking, there is cliff wall with the soft drip, drip, from the hanging swamp above. If you come to this spot at twilight and wait quietly for the night, the ghostly glow of glow worms will light up the darkness. Words to walk with: From the Little Green Orchard by Walter de La Mare "Yes, when the twilight's falling softly In the little green orchard; When the grey dew distills And every flower-cup fills; When the last blackbird says, 'What - what!' and goes her way - ssh! I have heard voices calling softly In the little green orchard Not that I am afraid of being there, In the little green orchard; Why, when the moon's been bright, Shedding her lonesome light, And moths like ghosties come, And the horned snail leaves home: I've sat there, whispering and listening there, In the little green orchard."