As my father so rightly remarks, the huge picture of crowds on the Mall that was published in today's Times would make an excellent, and fiendish, jigsaw puzzle.
Today's Platinum Pageant (I was back in time from my obligatory, and happily negative, Covid test to be able to watch it) was the most bizarre concatenation of Englishness - some amazing costumes and puppets; a - flock? herd? troupe? - of mechanical corgis; a huge Gay Pride flag; floats with Abba, and breakdancers, and acrobats; Morris Minors massing - it was undefinably amateur and professional at the same time - both enormously endearing, and like a parody of itself. Impossible to think of it happening anywhere else in the world. My father went to sleep watching it - but I woke him up to see the Queen coming out onto the balcony.
It's not easy to leave, this time. Back in August... Maybe it won't rain, then?