Rural England's got a funny way of being- old walls on every yard,overflowing with flowers of the colors white, yellow and blue, and the grass there almost never needs to be fertilized.

The birds sing songs all day and all night, and play tag among the moss covered churches and cemeteries, of which there are only one in every town.

There's only one way to talk and that's in complaints, for how else do you relate to a person? But in such a clean aired, green, peaceful world, the only thing there ever is to complain about is the weather. The weather that allows for dew drops on the dandelions every morning, and for you to lay out in the grass all day without getting burnt. In fact, there are so many clouds in the sky, that instead of the world turning Golden at sunrise and sunset, the world turns an eerie, quiet shade of blue.