note: we didn’t have a photographer this day; the following is a mishmash of friends’ photos, iPhone shots, etc.
Camden Town Hall: catch a cab to make the ceremony by three. friends and family row on row in a tiny courthouse room. married by a lovely woman with a hard-London tongue; in the background (inexplicably), “Memory” from Cats. sign the register next to my dad’s occupation. feel Dickensian to the extreme.
Regent’s Park: light rain as we leave the Hall. umbrellas up to walk a mile west and into the heart of Regent’s Park, where tucked away down a side arbor lies a secret garden perfect for picnicking. pastries, berries, elderflower pressé. the place entirely to ourselves, sun now shining. (incidentally, the garden was this week featured on Gardenista.)
York & Albany: dinner at a pub along the northeast crown of the park; we walk there, too, reading letters from my absent sister, crying, laughing. at the table we discover heirloom tomatoes dressed in goat’s curd and basil. jwm declares it first place on his list of revelatory foods. speeches all around, crying, laughing again.
Primrose Hill: as the sun sets we escape back into the park, just the two of us, a pilgrimage to Primrose Hill where we stand on the memorial to Welsh poets and my new name, where we later lie in the grass all of London lit up again the dusk sky, where when we turn to go home several passersby assume we’re drunk, giddy-dancing down the flowers, stumbling-skipping. one asks if we need help, if we know where we’re going, how to get there. we wave him away; we are exactly where we need to be.