Summer has arrived in old London town. Its pavements are hot to touch. Skin and ice-creams are melting. Summer sits on the city, heavy and hard. And there is coolness only with the setting sun. But I don’t mind, not a bit. There’s not a lot of open space in this city. And where there is, in the parks, the people flock in their floaty summer clothes and bikinis. The city is grey and grey with heat rays simmering, but the parks are green and cool with oak trees resting and serpentines round and swelling with water.