A Lemon tree
This Sunday is Sunday market time. Especially one: the Columbia Flower Market. This place will always hold special memories for me since it was the very first spot I visited when I came to London. It was a sunny Sunday and the small street was crammed with smiling people filled with expectations, searching for the perfect tree to take home.
As I tried to make my way through this crowd I heard the loud voices of the flower sellers: £3. 50, only £3. 50! As I looked up I saw tops of green trees, instead of the usual London gray sky.
It felt amazing. I was in the middle of London, on a tiny street packed with color and happiness. Along the sides of this tiny street there were small harmonic shops in typical London style with bright facades and wooden floors. The smell of wood blended with the flowers and the small steamy clouds rising from the Earl Grey tea that the people were carrying around. On the pavement there was a young writer leaning against a blue door in the sunshine. He was maybe trying to work on a poem. Further in the background there was music. It was coming from a young violin player. He was probably a student.
I enter a tea shop and fall in love with a ceramic teapot. Must have it. Such a way to brighten up the winter life, Columbia road Flower market and a steaming hot pot of tea after you’ve brought your tree home.
This is what I am going to be doing this Sunday. And this time I might go for a bright yellow lemon tree to cure even the grayest winter mornings.
Baci
