Status Updates From The Black Moon (Poldark, #5)

Seagulls blew up from a near-by field, littering the sky with their white wings.

They rode up to the door of Trenwith in tattered procession; a disparate yet matching couple: two big men, legs dangling, on two small ponies: the knight-errant and his shabby squire. Don Quixote had at least ridden a horse.

The hedgerows, after having been plastered down under weeks of frozen snow, seemed to flower the more, and bluebell and campion and milkmaid trembled in a patriotic riot of their own.