A walk-through Victoria Park brings us to a shaded bench facing its pond. Two men lie nearby in the sun; one of them sleeps on a sofa cushion.
London during Easter: police sirens and pigeon coos, cigarette smoke and flower scents, lush trees and apartment blocks, cloudless blue skies and small wind turbines, black coots and boys shouting a game.
On our way home, a cyclist is knocked off his bike on Grove Road. The driver redirects traffic while bystanders keep his head still. An ambulance squeals down the wrong road. Rubbernecks slow down to take a good, looooooong look.