…Sees, some morning, unaware
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!”
–Robert Browning, “O, To Be in England!”
It’s been a couple of months since I returned from my latest trip to England, and I’ve finally gotten around to writing this delayed post because I recalled that in April I pinky-swore that new content would be coming. If there is one thing one does not want to mess with, it is the power of the pinky swear. Life has been satisfyingly full, new projects have slowly been coming together, other plans have been moving along at a rate that is faster than it initially appeared. Among other things, I’ve been in London and Yorkshire, two places that speak to my blood and bones in ways that few others ever have. (Although I’m a native daughter of New York in more ways than one, my relationship with my hometown can best be described as loving but contentious. If we were dating, we’d be one of those couples who get a kick out of incessant bickering.)
The dino-bot of Curtain Road, Shoreditch. Admit it, you want one.
Lady Justice watches over London from high atop the Old Bailey…
Atop the Old Bailey
…while the dragon of the Temple Bar stands guard outside the Royal Courts of Justice.
York, meanwhile, is warded by some of the cheeriest, cheekiest gargoyles in the known world:
Adding another layer of joy and protection to this ancient city on the river Ouse.
Now I’m back in Manahatta, a five-minute walk from that old friend and confidant that is the River That Runs Both Ways (more commonly known as the Hudson). Rain is drumming on the roof and streaming down the windows as I plot my next steps.
