Thank Britain for Grass

There are so many things wrong with our country right now but there is one thing that is undeniably, wonderful and perfect about it: grass. Yes, grass. We should be thankful every single day for the wonder that is our grass.

While some other countries treasure their grass and think of it as something special or something to guard from the joyful romps of small kids, here, in the UK, we have so much of it that no one even really cares when kids sit and absent-mindedly pull it up. Aren’t we lucky? Every single day I think about grass, truly I do. I walk through a beautiful park to drop my daughter at her pre-school that is situated wonderfully and perfectly, inside said beautiful park. So, seriously, every day I think about how lucky we Brits are to have such an abundance of these little green stems sticking out of our mud.

Even in countries nearby they just don’t have grass like we do. I am always sad when I walk through European city parks on gravel paths wile the grass just sits there quietly behind small barriers porting tiny signs reminding us to KEEP OFF THE GRASS. And often when you can play on the grass it’s that weird spiky stuff that isn’t really grass as we know it. It isn’t fun for running barefoot or for having a lazy picnic on a perfect balmy summer’s day.

I know we’re super lucky that our damp climate is right for something (ahem), we may spend winters chilled to the very bones and we may sigh at one more wet summer’s day but think of the grass we get in return. And when it is a dry summer, so many of us lovingly water our lawns to ensure they survive the sun. I have been disappointed by grass all around the world: from Rwanda to Israel, from Mexico to China. I’m sure I have enjoyed good grass around the world and not really noticed it, from now on I’ll try to, I promise!

When Col and I visited the Shanghai Expo in 2010 we discovered that the United Kingdom’s entry pavilion was called the ‘Seed Cathedral’ and they stated there that one of the most loved smells in the UK is that of freshly cut grass. I’d agree wholeheartedly with that.

 

(also, this really is not a blog about drugs. I am genuinely so middle aged and middle class that I am talking about the green stuff that lives in the park not the smoking stuff).

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