It’s quite amazing, when you stop for a moment and just open your eyes to what’s around you.
Such a simple thing to do – and yes, advice given by countless others before me. But it really hit home the other day… I’d gone for a little walk in Bloomsbury, still trying to decide what to do with a few hours that had unexpectedly freed up. I was thinking of heading to Russell Square and perching on one of the wooden park benches with a book. But my route took me through Bedford Square first.
I’ve wandered through it many times before, and always felt this same sensation of suddenly being wrenched out of today’s central London in all its tourist-dodging and construction site glory and put in the past.
This time I sat down and took some time to observe everything around me…
Only a few blocks from Tottenham Court Road and Oxford Street – where you usually cannot hear yourself think above the traffic and incessant bustling of people – Bedford Square is extreme in its stillness. An eerie quietness is absolute, so much so that all you can hear is the rustling of leaves along the pebbled expanse that encircles the fenced garden square. Birds and crickets call, trying to make themselves known, but the trees and bushes talk to each other so loudly, a kind of swooshing that sounds almost like a waterfall; continuous and steady.
I have yet to see a human soul actually sitting in the garden, locked as it is to outsiders. Only residents of the area have a key. The rest of us sit on benches outside the gate, looking outward to the gorgeous Georgian townhouses that make up the outer rim of the square, separated by a one-way road that is hardly ever frequented by cars. As such, the occasional motor simply adds to the soothing environment.
How fitting as well, that the day I was there one of the houses in front of me was being tended by a few older men who looked on the brink of retirement. They were touching up the window sills, the doors and the banisters with a fresh coat of white paint.
I found myself wondering how many times the surface had been painted before. The history of the place seemed rich.
Just thinking about how many feet have shuffled along this same space is beyond any reasonable thought. Instead, little shards of possibilities darted around in my brain. The imagery that takes up most of the space is that from numerous BBC mini-series set in the 18th or 19th centuries. The square could easily be used as a location for a period drama (it probably has already), easy as it is to block off traffic and keep people out of the shoots without causing any nuisance, infrequent as the route is used anyway.
All the director would need in the shot is one or two houses and the vast road in front of it pounded with clay to look like a wide pass frequented by horse and carriage.
Ultimately, this is why I love London so much, it never ceases to amaze me. And my imagination basks in it…
Rambling and me 