We stepped off the bus and onto the wet streets. Though the rain had abated, the sky still hung dark with rain, and the wind blundered coldly through the crowd. Like the slightly-ruffled pigeons that wandered at our feet, we wended our way toward the John Donne memorial on the grounds of St. Paul’s Cathedral. As the group assembled, I took in the sights: the leafy bushes draping their golden-green locks over the fence, the large lime tree standing in its splendor of orange and yellow against the sandy-hued sides of St. Paul’s, the cathedral’s blue dome bending palely into the sky, the ghosts of the passersby appearing and disappearing in the thin sheets of puddle that spanned the pavement. 1 Column Content Background Color White Heading...