valley · ravine

Then let me to the valley go, This pretty flower to see; That I may also learn to grow In sweet humility.

Down in the valley a mist like a white feather rose gently into a white cloud, and obscured everything.

Then the merry little boys they will ramble, / So gleesome, o’er mountain and dale, / Where the sweets of the rose through the bramble / Will be blown by the mild summer gale: / Then a share of Nature’s smiles each morning / To the poor humble peasant will be given. / While the lark from his covert he is soaring, / His musical notes to the heaven.

We heard the echo of our voices from the other side of the valley.

Ziri heard the sound of a motorcycle echoing in the valley.