diamond in a mine

I wanted to be here all my life and I thought I knew this place as well as though I lived here in my previous birth. I thought I knew it well, until I reached Hampstead Heath. Of course I felt like I'm not in London.

To start with, Hampstead held the grave of my favourite John Constable in a cosy little graveyard. I entered the graveyard in the evening hearing the church bells, my eyes wandering for the grave. Finally they reached the corner of the yard covered with carpets of dead leaves (how typical, yes!) and as I walked towards his grave the feeling of peace was so deep that it fulfilled some longing in me. I loved him; that's why.

As I walked out of the grave and towards the heath I climbed a hill leading me to it. It is such a small town suddenly from all the posh Westminster air. So simple and so me. The best part of getting to this large piece of moor land, was that its entrance was a tiny path with rocky steps covered with trees. It lead to a huge meadow, a little hilly, grass well mowed and trees surrounded it from all sides, making it look like a small planet ruled by the lumps of clouds above living in the sky.

On the right end of the meadow was a pathway that lead to a court of trees. Some were in circles while some stood anywhere; a typical forest. I got back to the meadow and walked towards the right side. There was a cycle track that lead downhill to another place. This path was too, surrounded by trees and while you would walk you find that through them there were other meadows. I reached a marshy pond surrounded by moss. I walked on the bridge than ran over it. It was a little broken and a little rusty, nevertheless it only added to the character of the creepy pond where branches fell on it and leaves floated.

I followed my path that lead to two lines of trees running parallel to each other, but perpendicular to my path, running on either side of me. Beyond this line of trees my path continued with another meadow on my left. As I continued walking the forest started feeling thicker, there were creepers and twigs forming weird gateways and leaves making mysterious carpets. The path turned again and again. I felt like I was getting lost and I turned back but instead I took one of the branching pathways where cycles were not allowed.

I walked through leaves and climbed on mudded stones. Then again I reached another meadow. This one was even bigger. I was on the top of it this time so my horizon has the meadow and the trees, distant but on the side of it. I continued discovering it. There were fields of dry grass knee high some were topped with small yellow daisies. There were small cycle tracks cutting the meadow from each sides. I reached the centre of this meadow. A dry, broken tree behind me looking at me like a silhouette backed by the sun. I front of my was a small valley, where the meadow just went downhill to more and more grass. At the bottom was a huge pond where a few children sailed their toy motor boats. On the other side of the pond was another hill valleyed by families of trees. Finally my horizon was taken over by another green meadowed hill which was ruled by a church spire.

I sat on the grass below that and looked up at the sun. I closed my eyes to let that one tear fall down. I put off the music from my i-Pod only to hear the breeze teasing the grass and pampering my ears. I spoke to my mum, told her I missed her. I went back into my time and I started walking the cycle track leading to the pond. Ducks swam through those water wrinkles, always hard to capture in sketches. A gravel track outlined the pond and a huge tree trunk fell dead on it. I took my throne when I climbed on it and sat down to see the world slightly below me. As usual, I tilted my head to the lowest it could get so that I could get to see the world upside down. I pulled it back up as I felt the sun setting on my back and giving it's reflection to the clouds in front and above me.

I jumped down and started walking uphill through the same meadow. I reached the top and kept looking back, seeing what I left behind me. I started walking further and found and empty bench waiting for me. As I sat down the sound of the rustling grass got louder and somewhere near me I think I heard a running stream. I headed towards the other side of the meadow where there were trees.

Another pathway lead me through those trees and then again I reached a circle of trees as though in a midieval court. They surrounded me trying to take me over. I walked passed a tree and then again I reached another hill. This one was steeper. One one side were bushes with violet flowers and of course white daisies. This hill seemed steep enough to make me feel like I am walking towards the sky. The grass below me accompanied me in my venture and the sky welcomed me with the warm sun setting for the day. I continued walking upwards till I reached the top and I realised I am standing on Parliament Hill where I saw the skyline of London in a distant with its iconic buildings, but all ruled by the dome of St Paul's.

I looked back at the setting sun and saw the silhouette of another spire piercing through the sky. I saw the whole world at its contrast where on one side of me was my home and on the other side of me were mysterious pathways leading from forests to meadows; drying in grass; meadows outlined by other meadows ruled by church spires, all living through the shining sun and sleeping through the smoky dusk. Such is Hampstead Heath.