Помогите с описанием погоды в английской литературе. нужно найти такую часть в знаменитых рассказах

артур конандойль приключения шерлока холмса;
На вокзале Ватерлоо нам посчастливилось сразу попасть на поезд. Приехав в Летерхед, мы в гостинице возле станции взяли двуколку и проехали миль пять живописными дорогами Суррея. Был чудный солнечный день, и лишь несколько перистых облаков плыло по небу. На деревьях и на живой изгороди возле дорог только что распустились зеленые почки, и воздух был напоен восхитительным запахом влажной земли.

Описание погоды надо найти или что? Вот отрывок с описанием погоды и пейзажа из "Унесенные ветром".

Now
that the sun was setting in a welter of crimson behind the hills across the Flint River, the warmth of the April day was
ebbing into a faint but balmy chill.
Spring had come early that year, with warm quick rains and sudden frothing of pink peach blossoms and dogwood dappling
with white stars the dark river swamp and far-off hills. Already the plowing was nearly finished, and the bloody glory of
the sunset colored the fresh-cut furrows of red Georgia clay to even redder hues. The moist hungry earth, waiting
upturned for the cotton seeds, showed pinkish on the sandy tops of furrows, vermilion and scarlet and maroon where
shadows lay along the sides of the trenches. The whitewashed brick plantation house seemed an island set in a wild red
sea, a sea of spiraling, curving, crescent billows petrified suddenly at the moment when the pink-tipped waves were
breaking into surf. For here were no long, straight furrows, such as could be seen in the yellow clay fields of the flat
middle Georgia country or in the lush black earth of the coastal plantations. The rolling foothill country of north
Georgia was plowed in a million curves to keep the rich earth from washing down into the river bottoms.It was a savagely red land, blood-colored after rains, brick dust in droughts, the best cotton land in the world. It
was a pleasant land of white houses, peaceful plowed fields and sluggish yellow rivers, but a land of contrasts, of
brightest sun glare and densest shade. The plantation clearings and miles of cotton fields smiled up to a warm sun,
placid, complacent. At their edges rose the virgin forests, dark and cool even in the hottest noons, mysterious, a little
sinister, the soughing pines seeming to wait with an age-old patience, to threaten with soft sighs: “Be careful! Be
careful! We had you once. We can take you back again.”