When I was in Switzerland, what I missed most was the sea. The ability to walk down and voila, there it was, untamed, glorious and free. Lake Geneva wasn't bad as water bodies go, but it was a day trip to be able to indulge in that civilised form of H2O. It was always the cliff top houses that caught my eye as I would slip through channels, angry waves crashing against the rock. whispering away in conciliation as they ebbed.

While the sea will always be part of my soul, it's now the green that catches my eye, and makes me feel content as I cast my eyes over it's calming canopy. A sea of green over the sea of blue gray. When did that happen? Envying the buffalo wallowing in the marsh next door at Versova? Waking up to the shock of a zillion frogs blanketing it? Smiling at the the brush of green that just shies of coming level outside the 4th floor window? The shock and awe stemming from the realisation that the roads around cooperage are invisible under a lush green swathe that soothes it or the surprise of the neatly manicured rectangle atop the BEST building next door?

It hardly matters as I gaze out at one of my most favourite views of this city. The sun oozing over the lush greenness of Hyde Park, amplifying the myriad hues of green, gently interrupted by the occasional purple and red. The Serpentine glistens obscenely, pontoons bobbing like corks on the reflection. The serenity of the foliage plays you like a Stradivarius, even as its unshakable nature stands stolidly on guard. Graceful and ageless, a sea of calm oblivious to the steady stream of horsepower twittering on its sides. Like a storybook, the trees unfold their mystery as the sun lazily dips lower and lower, a conscientious page turner. Now, a glowing ball of flame red, it turns the Monet into a Rousseau. No longer a city landmark, your eyes are drawn to an enchanted forest, her secrets hidden in the shadows cast by the disappearing sun.

The city reappears, asserting it's dominance as the lights twinkle in the dusk, beckoning you. A few hours of dominance before the sun's streaky fingers steal through the sky, waking the forest, weaving the magic that is Hyde Park....