I awoke to a patch of blue and sunlight, unfamiliar sights reminding me if I stayed in London any longer I'd have to start popping vitamin D tablets. Deep within I felt melancholy, a splotch of left over grief surprisingly rising to the surface. An odd longing for what could have been, the what ifs playing in my head. Given the choice I like to think I'd select the course I'm currently on, a risky path, the unknown. I let the morning gloom wash through me as I took a grand walking tour of this city imprinted on my soul. A familiar metropolis, in a past life sort of way. And then magic happened. Wandering into St. Paul's Covent Garden an orchestra was rehearsing Strauss and Hayden. Flutes, clarinets and violins pierced the silence signaling to me I was exactly where I was supposed to be. A perfect brisk winter's day, an ever changing backdrop of historic monuments and regal palaces while my soul reconciled with the past.
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