July 12, 2010
Children shouting in three languages in the courtyard. “Mama!” means the same in all of them.
Had my first guided tour of the Abbey this morning. Informative, but a trial by the multitudes who were also there on this fine summer day. Prefer wandering through on my own in the cold of autumn when no one else ventures forth.
Keats says we should not dispute or assert, but only whisper results.
I think the same of Westminster Abbey as I did of St. Paul’s– haul all that old warrior crap out and make it a temple of the arts of peace. Leave the sad dead kings in their moldering stones.
The pain in my legs is dull and leaden after a day in the K race, but they heal up after a rest, so I suppose all is well.
London is not working for me this time out. I know it is all circumstantial, and the next time will be glory again. Like the students, I’m gritting my teeth and getting through it. It’s a shame though. This fair city deserves my best heart all the time.
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