London. The start of Grecian vacation of a lifetime. A bucket list trip to soften the blow of turning half a century. We've got a house on a Greek Island. Friends and family. A sense of adventure and a need for R&R.
Get ready. Set. Go!
First stop: Horley, England.
An English breakfast to begin and a BIG nap. Yummy late night veggie curry at Spice Boys (nobody else open on our California hours.) Next morning, let's go for a run. It's 5:30am... cool air blankets my skin, a beautiful borough. What could go wrong? Just a quick left turn...sure, I can find my way back. Lost in a maze of brick Tudor houses... circles and circles— trust yourself... find your way. Calico kitty greetings, light mist on my arms. A hour of feet hitting the pavement. Lost in Horley makes for a good workout.
I'm ready. Ready for a little adventure for sure.
Take the train into London. A whirlwind of landmarks to show our first-timer. What I'm first caught by are the faces--tucked away in palaces, towers, abbeys and often unnoticed. I start to look--to wonder--about these faces and what they've seen, heard, watched over time. Erected with holiness, honor, violence or power. What would they say if they could speak? Would they take pride in their homes or cower with shame for the atrocities they've witnessed.
Do the gargoyles really protect? Do the angels sing? Or the lions roar?
Will the kings and queens govern with pride and ethics and justice?
The horses and unicorns storm to our rescue?
Or is it time to do that ourselves?