text_original: Here you step from the lane right into a tiny larch plantation, and the path to the cottage is arched over with the boughs of the trees, while the brown cones crunch under your boots, or roll away down the steep incline of the path when your foot touches them.
text_transcription: HERE YOU STEP FROM THE LANE RIGHT INTO A TINY LARCH PLANTATION AND THE PATH TO THE COTTAGE IS ARCHED OVER WITH THE BOUGHS OF THE TREES WHILE THE BROWN CONES CRUNCH UNDER YOUR BOOTS OR RAIL AWAY DOWN THE STEEP INCLINE OF THE PATH WHEN YOUR FOOT TOUCHES THEM
phonemes: hˈɪɹ juː stˈɛp fɹʌmðə lˈeɪn ɹˈaɪt ˌɪntʊ ɐ tˈaɪni lˈɑːɹtʃ plæntˈeɪʃən, ænd ðə pˈæθ tə ðə kˈɑːɾɪdʒ ɪz ˈɑːɹtʃt ˌoʊvɚ wɪððə bˈaʊz ʌvðə tɹˈiːz, wˌaɪl ðə bɹˈaʊn kˈoʊnz kɹˈʌntʃ ˌʌndɚ jʊɹ bˈuːts, ɔːɹ ɹˈoʊl ɐwˈeɪ dˌaʊn ðə stˈiːp ɪŋklˈaɪn ʌvðə pˈæθ wɛn jʊɹ fˈʊt tˈʌtʃᵻz ðˌɛm.