At the weekend, we travelled to Bucharest for the wedding of Sam and Ioana. The Air France flight took us via Paris, and the takeoff from Charles de Gaulle on a crisp winter morning afforded us a magnificent view of the Seine curling through the city, and the famous landmarks of the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and Notre Dame.
I like to get a window seat when flying in Europe. There’s something magical about rising above the streets and buildings, and out into the cloud filled blue. And what stirs the imagination most for me is the sight of these great rivers, whether Tejo or Thames, Seine or Danube, snaking their way through the intricacy of the urban landscape. The river running through it gives the city it’s soul, creates the dividing line between the natural architecture of creation and the concrete and glass. And for getting around, is always there as a snaking landmark, giving you your bearings (which is probably why I never seem to enjoy Madrid that much - it just seems to be one big urban sprawl).
“There is a river whose streams make glad the city of our God”. Psalm 46 makes a clear connection between the River and the City - the river as a source of life and freshness, the river cleansing and gladdening the heart of man. From my ninth floor window, with the sun shimmering over the surface of the River Tejo as it passes through the city of Lisbon, I can well understand that imagery. This great body of water, passing beneath the bridges on its way to the sea, brings in fresh supplies of water every day, and carries all the waste and dross of the city out to the ocean.
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