The thing about London (as if there could be only ONE thing about a place like London), is it has an ingrained sense of history. There’s a dignified age about the streets, in the museums, cobbled into the stones of its churches.

During our November trip last year, we spent the last days immersed in history. We visited art museums and the British Museum, we walked through Westminster Abbey and saluted the fallen in the country-wide observed Remembrance Day.

Having always been something of a total history nerd, it is this kind of pursuit that always leaves me in a fulfilled sort of awe. Recognizing and celebrating the visions of the past provides the perfect prism to view the present and our many hopes for the future.

One such hope: That we return soon to London. Our tour there was a wondrous thing. And one none of shall soon forget. (Unless we sustain further head trauma. Remind me to tell you about the time I gave myself a concussion as a kid when I came to a quick meeting of the minds with the side of a pool. Drat, I was doing so well with this solemn, contemplative thing!)