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Wooden Benches

London is the closest thing I can call home.  Whenever I return and walk on the same pavements I walked on as a five year old, I feel a sense of familiarity and nostalgia. So many memories flash past as I walk the same streets and see the same trees.

I see them now as forty year old woman with perhaps a little melancholy. Time has passed so quickly, things have changed so much.  Yet these streets, these trees and the little sandwich bar close to Paddington Station remain the same. It’s me that’s changed, ever evolving, perhaps a little tired, yet optimistic and ever hopeful at each passing day and lesson learned.

The wooden benches in Hyde Park are a little worn from years of people. For many years I was one of them, sitting in my lunch hour at twenty one, sketching, reading a book, or daydreaming about a new love or with tears in my eyes from a recent heartbreak.  The benches will remain for many years to come, for many more of us to sit on and daydream, to escape the day to day and enjoy a peaceful reflective moment with a still and quite mind.

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