A mechanic whom admires the machine yet trembles to look under the hood is a fool, likewise the politician whom flinches from the realities of a city such as London.
From the altitude of Big Ben, from those clockwork hands, every aspect of London is laid bare.
London always was both the wide avenues and the backstreets, those whom wore the finest clothing and those whom wove the thread.
London has so many faces, and until you take time to get to grips with the emotions and realities of them all, you have no idea who she is.
Pavements move as a great river of humanity, the roads rivers of cars. These buildings that have seen the modern age pass, standing in silent witness, weathered rocks stretching toward blue sky. Here in our capital, in this canvas of life, the art of each face is something to savour. We are one nation in all our colours and faiths, all British under this spring sunshine, appreciating the golden daffodils who wave from beneath the trees. There is a pride in my chest, for my country who fought nazi ideology, to be one family, to choose love over hate and discrimination. And so, I join the flow, one of millions, connected and separate, in liberty with a sense of belonging.
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