Three years ago, as part of my sabbatical leave, I spent a few days in central London visiting Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church. Each day the walk from my digs to the church took me through Russell Square, an oasis of green in the midst of the buzz and vibe of that area. I sat on benches and watched the world go by, strolled with a friend, drank tea from the cafe and generally enjoyed the gift that is life.

Last week I spent a few days in south London with some other friends.  Just before going our  separate ways, we drank tea in the outdoor cafe at the British Library on Euston Road, not far far from Russell Square.  In Euston railway station, people of all races, colours, creeds milled around peacefully (if such a thing is possible), munched snacks, ran for trains, laughed, chatted, igonored and above all coexisted.

So my thoughts today are very much with those affected directly and indirectly by events last night. I know that my friends at Bloomsbury will be doing what they do every day, as will people of other traditions, faiths and none.