London, you cradled me in my innocent youth and ushered me along to those less-innocent teenage years. You made me wild and opened my eyes to the world. Now I’m resting in Somerset, feeling wholesome and held. I wanted this awhile (for me, and my kids). Still, you whisper my name: come back, be inspired, you say. So I drop in and you fill me up – right to the brim; frothing above it – and when I return to my fields, meadows, birdsong and trees, I feel full of your power and charge.
