Light and shade

Noise and silence. Movement and stillness. Drinking and sleep. We humans need contrast, some measure of daily chiaroscuro, to keep us alive and alert. Knowing this, I don't overly resent having to leave the quiet tranquility of my study to travel down to London from time to time. It can be all bustle and business, scampering to keep to time and being hassled by surly train staff, free newspaper distributors and scallies after some change, but the experienced traveller will so arrange his or her affairs as to leave some interludes during which the spiritual batteries can be recharged.

Exempli gratia, this delightfully peaceful scene was photographed this afternoon, not a minute's walk away from the junction of Euston Road and Tottenham Court Road. Tucked away behind vertiginous glass-walled financiers' offices, one can sit with a good pint of Young's, hear virtually none of the traffic and enjoy the sight of a mature horse chestnut surrounded by rowans. How nice is that? Oh, and in case you were wondering, it's the offices that are vertiginous and glass-walled, not the financiers. Some of them are pretty tall, admittedly. The financiers, some of them are tall. Anyway, moving on.

Meandering back to St Pancras - as a Nottingham Observer must if keen to get home - the ants-nest hecticity of the Euston area can be mitigated by a couple of minutes walk down one of the sidestreets to the Somerstown Coffee House. Now coffee is available here, and good coffee at that, but pour moi the attraction of this place is that it's run by French types. They know about good food and wine, and seem to be pretty well up to speed on English beer, too. Charles Wells Bombardier and Eagle IPA are well kept here.
























It's a very pleasant place to pass an hour before the train home. Or two hours, if you've been sensible enough to arrange things that way. The only trouble is that one can get so settled that the train home may not be the one you originally intended.

















And once safely back in the old home town, another good way of winding down from the buzz of the capital is to walk along the river and back home across the Hook in the late evening sunshine - although as you can see the shadows are already pretty long at 6.30 at this time of year. I might also point out that the Hook is actually level, but your photographer had perhaps been a little too tranquil in the places of rest mentioned above. You won't be able to see her clearly, but somewhere in the pixellated foliage is Mrs QO, foraging for blackberries and elderberries. She has a cunning plan for the fruits of the field thus garnered, of which more anon, perhaps.