In case you didn't know, for the past four years that most revered landmark of London has been hidden away in scaffolding, and the sonorous voice of Big Ben has been silent.
On midnight New Year's Eve, the great bell's voice rang out once again.
The morning of January 1, 2022, felt like spring. (I mean that literally, not in an artsy, esoteric-metaphor kind of way.)
Despite it's being the height of winter, it was incredibly balmy. (I removed my coat!) Coming across the bridge into the city center, for the first time in ages I was met by the gilded face of the Elisabeth Tower, gleaming in the sunshine. The air was fresh, the seagulls were gliding high, the waters of the Thames sparkled.
It was a morning that felt like a fresh start, like a lost treasure found, like being reminded that today was the beginning of a grand holiday, and you didn't have to work, like...well, like spring. (Yes darn it, in an artsy esoteric-metaphor kind of way. )
I actually painted this picture last year, in anticipation of the Tower's reemergence.
(I didn't realize it would be so soon!)
Here's hoping 2022 brings blessings to us all!
Catch you later!