The climate is gentler in the northwest of Britain than it is in the Midwest of the US. Since it’s Spring, which is a mythical season where I’m from, it seems like I’m living in a fairyland.
In fairyland, the blades of grass are thin and delicate. It’s as if nature had golf courses in mind when she created grass in the UK.
It is soft – not like the thick blades of grass I’m used to. As my husband put it,
“If you sit down for a picnic, that grass will stab you, steal your kidney and nic your wallet.”
In fairyland, a daffodil can be in bloom for 8 weeks. They grow in yards, ditches, sidewalks, and in the medians. It’s ridiculous.
In fairyland, the Eency Weensy spider (presumably Isty Bitsy’s British cousin) actually gets a chance to climb up the waterspout a second time, because it’s actually possible for the sun to come dry up rain that fell that very morning. Incredible! More proof that this is a fairytale land where the impossible happens daily!