Wildflowers in the Moat

Yesterday was busy as all get-out. Both Dave and I had medical stuff to do -- I had a chest x-ray at the Royal Free Hospital in the morning and Dave had an MRI down by London Bridge in the afternoon. The x-ray (a precautionary measure, no big deal) was easy. I walked to the hospital with my form from my doctor's office, bought a coffee at the lobby cafe and sat down in the waiting room with a couple of New Yorker magazines, thinking I'd be there a while. Instead, I was done before I even finished the coffee! I drank it on the patio in front of the hospital before I walked home.

The MRI involved both of us taking the tube down into London, and while Dave dealt with the big magnet, I took a walk. I crossed London Bridge and walked along the north shore of the Thames. It was a beautiful day so there were tons of people out, and I admired the views of Tower Bridge (above) and all the ornate architecture along the river.

After mentioning writer Barbara Pym in yesterday's post, I was stunned to find this scrawled on a wall on the riverbank:

What are the odds?! It's like the universe is affirming my desire to read her books.

I found a good reflective window, perfect for a self-portrait.

At the Tower of London, I was impressed by the colorful wildflowers that have been planted in the dry moat, which is normally just plain grass. This is part of an event called Superbloom,  meant to both attract pollinators and celebrate the Queen's Platinum Jubilee. Apparently you can buy tickets and wander among the flowers, and there are some other attractions, too -- but I just enjoyed it from the free sidewalks above.

I crossed Tower Bridge and popped in to see Antony Donaldson's "Waterfall" fountain in the Shad Thames neighborhood, which I've photographed a couple of times. Five or six years ago there were controversial plans to move it. I'm not sure what ultimately happened, but the fountain is still there.

Then I made my way back along the riverfront to the hospital. You hear lots of interesting things walking through crowds. I passed a woman sitting on the wall beside the path, saying into her phone, "I told him to stop gaslighting me!"

Dave's MRI went fine, though they did give him some mildly sedating drugs, so we took a tube straight home. And it's a good thing we did, because no sooner did we get here than Mrs. Kravitz called and said she had an emergency -- her dog-walker was dropping off her dog and she wasn't home. Could we watch it for her until she returned in 20 minutes?

I resisted the urge to ask her why her dog-walker couldn't unlock her door and leave the dog by itself, as ours does with Olga. Instead I just said fine, which is how we wound up with this in our garden:

His name is Cherry. As you can see, Olga basically ignored him. I played fetch with both of them, but then Mrs. K's "20 minutes" turned into an hour. I was glad when she finally showed up to take him home.

It's a good thing we got all this done yesterday, because today there's a massive tube and rail strike that's going to paralyze public transportation in London and all over the country. Everyone is advised not to travel, so Dave and I will be staying home. I'd planned to meet a friend from my Peace Corps years, who's visiting town with her family, but we've put that off until later in the week.