the crown of evening light

Walked my boy over to his Mum's. I then popped round to have a look at how the house spit-and-polish is going. Slowly, it seems. Still looks a long way off from sale.
So I went a walk into Victoria Park. A fine and busy park that is well loved by those that live around it.
There is plenty of birdlife, indeed there was a nesting swan and a nesting coot on the pond. Runners, dog walkers, toddler takers and others simply taking in a bit of late warmth in the day.
This memorial is for the fallen of the Great War. It is a piece of sculpture that always encourages meditation. I've been at it as the sun is rising in the East and watched the angel crown the awakening day. I have been there when a Grey Heron perched regally, an almost angel itself. I have been there when flocks of pigeons circle it to produce the great uplifting hymn to flight, to the higher self, to the miracle of imagination.
Today it looked pretty fine too against a troubled sky. It has a brooding, rousing feel about it. I knelt down and took its crown of the early evening light, a swan stretched its wings behind me in mute affirmation, a hundred thousand birds took wing.