I was in South London on a busy arterial road, surrounded by cars and lorries, passing big warehouses, supermarkets, petrol stations and shops made grubby by the diesel particulates that flew either side of the road. people who have to live and work along that road and cannot avoid breathing in the pollution caused by the traffic, end up has human air filters; eventually theu do not notice it.
If you need a sanctuary away from the busy dirty road you can see a road name, leading to the north saying “Sylvan Grove”. I glanced at the signing thinking how pleasant it would be to find a grove of trees so near to the mess that humanity has created. All I saw was a thin road with thin pavements, a jumble of metal fencing and modern ugly warehouse buildings and at the ned of Sylvan Grove a lonely poplar tree, leaves gone golden in the autumn sun.