Now...to talk about England...

Now I've been in England for awhile. You all know that. In fact I've only been really faithfully blogging since I've been in England, but surprisingly enough, I haven't mentioned the place too frequently. I've written many poems (I can mention poetry here, okay? xP) about places here in England, although, surprisingly enough, my inspiration has ebbed at a low since I've come here. Which is odd, because England is more beautiful that any place I've ever been before.

There's not a grand lot of sunshine, it rains and the sky is practically permanently covered in a blanket of clouds, but it's all so lovely! The grass is always green, it snows just about the right amount, there are a good deal of trees and little patches of forest scattered about, wherever you go there's something beautiful that you can appreciate. It's just perfect, especially after living in third world countries. Well, maybe with the exception of Turkey and Lebanon. Okay, so I've lived in a lot of beautiful places.

Turkey was magnificent; massive hills and clear skies, red moons and the Bosphorous to view from our third-floor balcony(it wasn't very pretty once you got near enough to smell it). But that was a sort of Black Sea beauty. A Middle Eastern beauty. Lebanon was also beautiful. The cedars of Lebanon are famed everywhere. I was lucky to be able to witness them firsthand. I don't remember it as clearly, of course, but I remember loving the amount of snow we got up in the mountains in winter; the long hikes we had up there in summer. Lebanon's mountains are the most beautiful I've ever seen.

But England is a different sort of beauty altogether, and I have to say, the most beautiful place I have ever been. No offense to all the lovely countries I've experienced, but England is right up my alley. Rainy days, with just a little bit of sun peeking through at noon if you're lucky. Grassy knolls and little valleys, brook and streams, little splotches of forestry, and stretches of farmland all over the countryside. Which is where I am now. I'm visiting a 200 year old massive manor of a farmhouse in Dartford, and I'm cozy up here in the attic enjoying the one setback of country life: slow-ass internet. But I can survive that. Or can't I? Anything for the long walk I'm going to be taking later on today. And the Van Gogh paintings they have on the wall here. *Sighs contentedly* It's the closest I'm going to get to home outside of home.