David, London Walks' Pen and Daily Constitutional Special Correspondent is out in the field. Here's his latest dispatch, a "Word Selfie" capturing a London moment…
Full on stream of London consciousness. Carolers in Victoria Station. "We wish you a merry Christmas." Doing their bit for the Save the Children charity. Front row, centre, a tiny young woman about to present the world with a brand new child.
A moment of word wondering - that "present" the verb with a long first e and second syllable emphasis? Or "present" the noun - used as a verb, as in gift the world with a newborn infant?
Then of course the point counterpoint thought - a couple of hundred yards away Cameron and Co. wishing lots of people a martial Christmas.
Commuters hurrying past the carolers. Just passing through. The carols and carolers just a blur, a smear.
Outside, buses and cars and taxis and pedestrians and - the fixed foot of the compass - not going anywhere (like a spent shell), frozen in the past, Marshal Foch, the French World War I top brass. Well, the statue of Marshal Foch. Nobody taking any notice but me. But that was then. He had his war, had his time.
Then percolating past Hyde Park on the 16 bus. The brightly lit Fun Fair rides. Like moving, patterned, round-and-round Christmas tree lights. Or chain-gangs of glowworms. Or bombs bursting in air.
Black burqua'd Middle Eastern woman - beautiful brown eyes peering out of the embrasure in the fortification - with a toddler in a stroller - struggles onto the bus. Offer her my seat. Doesn't want it. Rapt, I wonder what layers, if any, in that core sample of a London moment?
Kilburn High Road where this rivulet of the great collective stream of London consciousness breaks free of the tensility (that the word? that a word?), drains off the 16 and heads to its very own backwater.
The moment evaporates. Setting it down here the, er, eternal, losing battle against oblivion.
Banish the thought. Must concentrate on tomorrow night's skirmish. The Packers against the Lions. And the other fight - the must win skirmish - against that Roman god. Somnus. (Kick-off is at 1.25 am London time.)
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