In England, you will rarely come across so joyous an occasion as Mayday morning, when morris dancers and their cheery musicians welcome the summertime at dawn.
You can see why I miss this riotous, fun-filled occasion.
(They're 'concentrating', I'm told. Presumably on how to escape the sixth circle of hell they apparently feel they are currently occupying.)
Edited to add: Thank you to anyone who dutifully went running for their copy of the Inferno (always on the bedside table, no doubt) and wondered if I purposely picked the sixth circle because that's where the heretics go. I would like to set you straight on this score, because my translation indicates that actually the sixth circle is reserved exclusively for those who play either the accordion or the banjo.