I am happy.
I see you London, waking up after your holiday. Shaking off winter, and swapping it for the optimism of spring.
And you, the sun, new spring warmth glistening everywhere. Making me smile and be happy now that the stark beauty of winter is dead. You shine on everything as I pass. There is the golden boy on his rocking horse in Trafalgar Square, and if I look hard enough, I can almost see him rock back and forth laughing at the tourists looking up at him. Shafts strike across Hungerford Bridge hitting the Houses of Parliament making the building shimmer and shine, but hiding the decay of politics within. Whilst across the bridge, there stands St Paul’s and the city, and flashes of you bounce off the windows, like a hundred cameras going off as my train continues on its way.
At last! The heavy coats of winter can now be shrugged off in favour of the lighter clothes and brighter colours. I see the first glimpses of sandaled feet, the skin soft after a season of living in socks, tights and boots.
The sunglasses that have been frantically looked for in the depths of wardrobes, cupboards and drawers, now placed in their rightful positions or perched on tops of heads. Are you sure they are real Raybans sir?
New life bursting in parks, gardens and trees. Animal and bird parents frantically preparing for new young to come or feeding that which has already been born. Fresh greens and the pink and white blossom that catches on the wind and dances in the air to then land, becoming a carpet of loveliness. Shoots thrusting through the soil and a sea of yellow as the daffodils bob and sway in the breeze and brighten everyone’s mood.
People straighten as they walk, realising that they no longer have to brace themselves against the winter elements. The edges of their mouths soften, is that smiling I can see..?
Tables and chairs placed outside, silver cutlery against the white of the starched table-cloth anticipating al fresco eating; so lovely to do.
And the Lady of St Johns has returned! She must have been hibernating for winter as well. She is rocking and singing to an unknown song.
Oh, how I love London on a new spring afternoon.