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So, remember how I was telling you about how I woke up in the Daffodil Field on the day I was born?

It was all yellow! The field was so beautiful. I wanted to see more of it.

I peeked out of my flower a bit more.

Beyond the yellow sea of daffodils there was a sea of green. In front of me was a sign saying “Farm“. And a pathway!

I walked on the pathway for a while, until I got to a crossroads.

There I saw a helpful green arrow which said “Cowentry way“. This sounded exciting. Maybe it was a village or a town!

I followed the arrow and there, in the sun, on the new mown grass, I saw something standing…

SOMETHING HUGE!

Or, rather, someONE huge.

She didn’t see me at first.

I got closer and said:

“Hello!”

She looked up, stopped chewing and said:

“Moo!”

This means “Hello” in Cowish. How do I know this? I am not quite sure. I guess all Daffodilfolk are born with the knowledge of other languages!

“My name is Mr Daffodil! And who are you?“, I asked.

“Mooo.”

This was Cowish for “Daisy”.

“Nice to meet you, Daisy! You also have a flower name!”

“M-Mooo.”

At that point I got slightly scared because what she had said translated loosely as “Yeah… You look tasty!” in Cowish. I noticed that Daisy was in the middle of eating lunch, and that her lunch consisted of some of my relatives, Grasses and Clovers.

But I decided I wouldn’t be a coward. Besides, Daisy seemed quite friendly.

“Daffodils are yellow and friendly, but we are not tasty at all,” I pointed out.

“Moo? Mooo-o. Moo,” Daisy said with some disappointment.

What a relief! This meant “Oh, I see. Well, actually, I wasn’t going to eat you anyway, I have a field full of tasty clover pie.”

“I’m really glad to hear that! I was only born today!”

“Moomoo-moomoo-moo-moooo!” [* Happy birthday, little Daffodil!]

“Thank you! I’m off to find some adventures now. Goodbye, hope you have a nice day, Daisy!” I said.

“M-oo.” I am not entirely sure, but I think she meant “You too, little tasty flower,” or maybe “We said good-bye before we said hello.” Either way, I decided that Daisy was indeed a friendly cow.

She was also very big. Or am I very small?

You only know you are little when you meet something (or someone) very big.

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