A and I went for one of our long walks today in central London. We thought it would be a good idea to squeeze one more dinner date before my slew of weekend on-calls. Our wanderings would not be complete without our customary visit to a bookstore. We go back and forth between a few of our favourites, but today we stopped by Waterstones in Piccadilly. We only had time to explore the ground floor of this mammoth sized bookstore that span five or six floors. We always get an itch to purchase another book on our visits despite having a stack of yet-to-be-read books in our little flat. Although I initially pushed away the voices that told me I had to buy this particular book, in the end, I gave in to my temptations and bought the book half price on Amazon. It will be delivered tomorrow (yay!). On the other hand, A was disciplined enough to walk out of the bookstore empty handed (seriously, what is this sorcery?).
We chose to walk to our favourite Indian place in Queensway. It is quite a trek to get there - but we haven't had a long walk through Hyde Park in a while and it wasn't too cold out - so we jumped at the chance. I deeply treasure these night walks together. It is where a lot of our intimate conversations take place. Especially when strolling in the park after sunset, our senses are dimmed - there is enough lamp posts to light our journey, but only just. We are sheltered from the angry taxi cabs and hurried busses weaving in and out of the city's tiny streets. It is quiet - the numbness of the evening only interrupted by the sound of cyclists rushing home and the sound of hastened feet from joggers who train best in the shadow of darkness. With this stillness that the night brings, there is more room for our thoughts - thus more room for deep and meaningful conversations.
Today, whilst walking hand in hand with A passing many magnificent tall trees in Hyde Park, I thought how peculiar it is that centuries ago, other people too walked this same path, but in totally different circumstances. Two hundred years ago, these same streets had seen no cars - they would have been filled with horse drawn carriages carrying the wealthy. Where I walked, there would have been elegant ladies in corsets and dresses, umbrellas in tow, and probably chaperoned by strapping men wearing waistcoats and top hats. Their nights would not have been lit unless by candles. But some structures would have remained - like the Buckingham Palace, Serpentine River and the townhouses surrounding Hyde Park - somehow impervious to the effect of time.
The trees in the park - that stand majestically, their roots deeply embedded in the Earth - they have seen London through it all. They have observed London through the centuries - with the changing landscape, technology and people. So I wonder, if they could talk, what would they say about London as it stands now? Is the city better? Are people happier?
These are some of the weird thoughts that night walks allow into my mind. I wonder what it will be next time.
No comments