It rained and it rained and it rained. Piglet told himself that never in all his life, and he was how old – three, was it, or four? – never had he seen so much rain. Days and days and days.

“If only,” he thought, as he looked out of the window, “I had been in Pooh’s house, or Christopher Robin’s house, or Rabbit’s house when it began to rain, then I should have had Company all this time, instead of being here all alone, with nothing to do except wonder when it will stop.” And he imagined himself with Pooh, saying, “Did you ever see such rain, Pooh?” and Pooh saying, “Isn’t it awful, Piglet?” and Piglet saying, “I wonder how it is over Christopher Robin’s way” and Pooh saying, “I should think poor old Rabbit is about flooded out by this time.” It would have been jolly to talk like this, and really, it wasn’t much good having anything exciting like floods, if you couldn’t share them with somebody.

This excerpt from Piglet Is Entirely Surrounded by Water by A.A. Milne is proof that in Britain even the fictional characters spend a great deal of time thinking about, and talking about, the weather. And why shouldn’t they? For such a relatively small country the U.K. has an abundance of weather. Continue reading →