I walk the paved embankment to Lambeth Palace,
past Parliament on the north bank and St. Thomas
the hospital on the south, past nameless
buildings and nameless homeless on the north,
past the pastry and coffee carts with surprisingly
long lines this early, arriving to find what looks
less a palace and more a castle whose windows
need cleaning. What captures my attention is
what looks like an old church, moldering
on the west end of the palace, and it was
an old church, moldering, until it became
the Museum of Garden History, occupied
by parishioners who look startlingly like
either old books or old plants or both. But
it’s Sunday, Sunday morning, a glorious
Sunday morning, and perhaps the books
and plants are preparing to worship.
Photograph: Lambeth Palace on the left and the Museum of Garden History on the right, courtesy Britain Express.
brilliant. excellent. love it. this day I will worship with the books and plants. cheers!
I have a notion that the plants are, as well as the leaves of the books.
Perhaps, they are! Let everything that has breath praise our Lord!
Beautiful, Glynn . . .
Interesting turn this took.
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