A lovely Hyde Park morning walk at exactly sunrise, after a rainy night. The added treat: The Queen’s Horse Guards, who are usually out at dawn, were uncharacteristically in spectacular full dress today, with carriage amidst them. Presumably, a Head of State is dropping by to chat up the Queen and go for a ride.
(Lest you think I’m a hopeless Anglophile, let me set the record straight. My colleague and pal, Harry Rhoads, co-founder of the Washington Speakers Bureau, was over here for Mrs Thatcher’s 80th birthday party last week. The Queen attended, and apparently as the peons were being briefed on etiquette, they were informed that if they stuck their hand out for a (harmless) shake of the Royal Hand, it would be slapped away by a hovering attendant. After Harry’s report on this in an email, I replied in a one-line email, “That’s why we fought the damn war in 1776.” Yes, I remain a steadfast Yankee Doodle Dandy.)