To be honest, I have just a feeling someone beat me to this image, and did so on canvas rather than by pointing a mobile phone at it and hoping for the best.
But it was a view that struck me yesterday as we wandered, trudged, slid around Hampstead Heath and was by no means the only feast for the eyes on a not-too-chilly November afternoon in London.
It has not been a great week for mankind, Donald Trump brawling his way into the White House, Nigel Farage swiftly invited in for a chat and Marine Le Pen, among other far-right leaders, cheering from the aisles.
So what better antidote than to drove round the North Circular to Hampstead? We hadn't been there for a few years so it came as a bit of a novelty, too.
A quick drink in or rather at an outside perch of the heaving Spaniards' Inn, huge helpings of Sunday roasts and fish and chips whizzing past us on their way to other tables, was the perfect starter (we'd celebrated being back in England with a bacon-and-eggs brunch so no need for food) for a brisk walk.
As daylight fades, those unfamiliar with the geography wish there were more signposts. "You don't want to be stuck here still trying to find your way out when it gets dark," said someone offering helpful directions.
But what a delight to be in London and still be able to savour the wonders of the countryside.
It had been too long. I loved every second of being there, including those when I wondered about getting out again. We will go again, whether or not we pause for something more substantial than a pint of real ale and a gin and tonic at the Spaniards' Inn.
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