Holland Park, London

It was autumn and the park looked resplendent...much, much lovelier than its more famous peers Hyde Park, Regent's Park and Kensington Gardens. Woody in brilliant hues of orange, red and gold, the park was also so much more alive, with little squirrels darting about and rustling up some mischief (and were there rabbits too? Sorry, but this memory is 8-years-old), and the tranquil lakes occupied by ducks and geese (or were they swans?) gliding silently in groups. I laughed at the dog toilet (had never seen one before) and was enchanted at the thought of plays and concerts being staged in the park. But most magical were the benches placed in public and semi-hidden corners of the park. Most of them had touching inscriptions on them, in memory of people who loved the park or the death of some loved ones. The bench that I chose to sit on described how someone had spent many times sitting there and drinking in the beauty around him, and invited visitors to sit, too, and enjoy the view as he did. So I sat there, listening to John Williams playing Holland Park on my CD walkman, and dreamt the afternoon away. Some day, I hope to return to the park, and have my inscription there: "Chuah Siew Eng travelled all the way from Malaysia, drawn to this park by a song, and found it to be as wonderful as she heard."