London's Lungs

17 September 2008

Our last day in London has finally arrived. It wasn’t too spectacular. In the morning, we ascended Parliament Hill. Located in the heart of Hampstead Heath, it afforded us a magnificent view of the great metropolis of London. (And I should mention that it also afforded us an opportunity to escape the prying eyes of the British authorities—“Big Brother” was busy taking a nap.) I loved the Heath. It was so rugged and beautiful, covered with all manners of greenery—there were trees, shrubbery, wildflowers, tangles of ivy, rolling hills and open fields of grass. I loved it so greatly. And as I consider it, I suppose that ultimately, places like the Heath are more important to the health, spiritual as well as physical, of London. It’s not the London Stone that assures the city’s prosperity. It’s the open fields and the parklands that are the “lungs” of the city. Regent’s Park, Hyde Park, St. James’ Park, the Heath, and other such locations are the places to which the people can come to admire the wondrous beauty of Nature, enjoy a pleasant afternoon of quiet conversation with their friends, or do the wash in clean, clear, running water. They are the places where the people come to be people, where they escape the dehumanizing tendencies of urbanization and industrialization. I know this all sounds like Romantic nonsense, but I certainly don’t think it’s accidental that William Blake in his poems “London” and “Pillars of Gold” can see the pain and the potential of London. In one case, he was probably looking toward the great mass of sooty fog, soulless mills, and abject poverty which was already developing in his day; and in the other when he directed his gaze toward the Heath, he could see the possibility to build “Jerusalem in England’s green and blessed land.”

We had lunch at a pub in the Village of Hampstead called the “Holly Bush.” It was Professor Rudalevige’s treat. For the rest of the day, we were free—and Lauren Deitz, Zack, Meghan, Emma, and I made the most of it, spending a quiet afternoon in Regent’s Park before heading to Knightsbridge to break bread in the high temple of commercialism, Harrods; and finally, we casually sauntered along the South Bank, pausing for a pint at the same restaurant where we had lunch with Lord Griffiths so many weeks ago and then crossing the Thames to head homewards on the Underground. A wonderful day from start to finish. And I’m happy to say, a delightful month. I have been so privileged and so blessed. May my time in Norwich continue to be equally delightful.