If the city were a desert, St. James Square would be an oasis. A real oasis though, cool water giving respite from the sandpaper of thirst, leafy palm tree offering shelter from the staggering heat. Except St. James Square is no figment of optical illusion or the heat oppressed mind. In the middle of the ritzy West end, buried among zipping cars and hurrying pedestrians lies this isolated green area.
The has a ring road around it, but bordering this road are rows of carefully sculpted houses that block out the noise of the bustling city. Finely arrange foliage and trees dapple the green of the grass. Benches are placed along the walkways give rest to weary feet or to provide comfort for those who wish to picnic or admire the scenery. At centre, thrust mid action onto a pedestal stand William II and his horse lunging for into some shimmering unknown.
An island of calm among the waters of ruckus. read more