After living in London for a few years, it is clear to me why it is considered one of the greatest cities in the history of mankind.
London is so ancient, by the time ancient Romans settled in 43 AD, it had already been a population hub on the Thames for thousands of years.
You can see it everywhere you go.
Each millennia represented in small pockets around the city and on display for the locals to ignore as they head to work on the tube each day. Numb from overexposure to the beauty and influence surrounding them.
I tried not to let myself forget the fortune I had to live there.
“Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.”
Samuel Johnson to a friend
Snow Among The Smoke
The bleached red bus strode east across the river. It’s two layers towering over everything around it as snowflakes flurried past.
The city had never before seen a snow like this. Out in the country sure, it came down in heaps. In the city however, it was a rare and spectacular event. Maybe once in a lifetime.
Watching the snow cover the city was something else. Each skyscraper wearing delicate illuminated blankets reminiscent of white capped mountains thousands of miles away. You could fly over both in a plane just the same.
The city had an ostentatious calm in the atmosphere. There was an awful lack of commotion as the population hung closely to their fireplaces, snooping over steaming hot mugs of tea.
Clouds cast shadows over the snow piles speckled across the park. Playgrounds for a time before they slowly exhausted themselves into the ground and eventually became clouds once again. A man seated on a snow bank next to a barren tree reflected on life.
Off by the tennis courts a young boy was having a snowball fight with his dad. A young couple went jogging past a man leaning against a railing carefully rolling a cigarette.
It’s surprisingly peaceful when the city is quiet.
-J. Rupple
