Here's a photo I had forgotten about, on a walk that had slipped my mind, on an afternoon that was bright and mellow at the same time but I might be wrong as it might not have been the day I thought it was. London is glorious in the summer sunshine, but it is equally as magical in wholly different ways in the winter. In winter, the city sometimes feels like it is all squished together, wrapped up in rustly brown paper and tidied up with twinkly lights and ribbon. I'll try and remember to take a similar shot next week on this same walk, not least so I don't forget the moments I stop and think "Wow, I'd like to capture that glimpse for eternity".
London in the winter is in equal measures magical and creepy. I love the twinkling lights that make it sparkle like jewellery, but there are also those areas--Whitechapel will never be anything but scary--which are gloomy and full of shadows that ghosts lurk in. I love both sides of London equally!
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