I often take long walks, here in London. Sometimes I have a destination – going to work at Imperial, or visiting a museum, or shopping for an obscure item. Othertimes I just wander. Either way, I sometimes ignore the temptation of Apple Maps, point my nose in the general direction, and zigzag through streets and parks until I get close to where I want to be. Along the way, I enjoy the sense of discovery, often about the smallest things.
Like this daycare center in Westminster, where an iron railing seems almost purpose-built to stash a line of childrens’ scooters, each with its rear end carefully scooted between the rails and overhanging the trench that allows light into the “garden-level” rooms below.
Or, earlier this fall, like this ivy growing on the outside of a building at University College London, some blazing the autumn colors of orange and red. Much of the visible spectrum is here: red, orange, yellow, green, and blue.
Or, one day as I cut through a tiny pocket-park and stopped to read a small sign, which explained that the grassy park I shared with dog-walking young professionals and newspaper-reading retirees had once been the graveyard for the neighboring church, but all the headstones had been removed and formed into a wall for the park. (Indeed, I presume the park is still a graveyard – a yard of graves – but with no markers to indicate who is buried where.) I strolled over to the wall, which indeed is made from headstones. Most are unreadable, long since weathered into anonymity.
I’ll keep my eyes open, and will share more random sights!
David Kotz 