Blossom and birdsong in The Regent’s Park.
Meadow-like lawns scattered with white daisies.
French women chatter over yoga on the playing fields.
A spaniel barks, demands his mother’s attention.
Edgeware Road to Park Lane. Skirting the edges of Hyde Park sparkling bright green in the sun, blue-and-white-striped deckchairs unfolded everywhere.
Into Mayfair. Colours of the brickwork, shades of dusky pink, white, grey charcoal blue.
Spotted Berkeley Square, and suddenly Piccadilly and the Burlington Arcade sparkling with diamonds.
Regent Street, the Circus.
St James Square thronging at lunchtime. Another pair of men in blue suit-pants, white shirts, take-away lunch in hand, ‘seems everyone’s had this idea.’ The entirety of smart London offices spilled into the square burbling with chatter. Beds of vibrant bulbs. From behind me, the popping of a champagne cork.
Magical: Day One 
Oh, glory! (my thoughts had taken on the tone of a girl in a midcentury British novel) The soft lawn under bare legs, the soft chatter of the happy crowd, the soft breeze playing amongst the tulips. Oh, glory, to be alive!
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