Dylan Thomas country perhaps...

We have been sunning ourselves in, of all places, North Wales! Our previous experience of camping in the Welsh mountains was one of driving rain and heaving, beating, relentless wind - hence our surprise at the warmth; the sunshine...

    'Stand on this hill. This is Bethesda, old as the hills, high, cool, and green, and from this small circle of stones you can see all the world below you sleeping in the first of the dawn.
    You can hear the love-sick woodpigeons mooning in bed. A dog barks in his sleep, farmyards away. The hills ripple like a lake in the waking haze...
    The morning lightens now, over our green hill, into summer morning larked and crowed and belling.'

Heavily adapted of course - grateful thanks, Mr Thomas, for your welshsome words that help us capture the heady space and breathing, soft fox-padded summer hills of Wales (I reckon we heard that dog...)