Walking along Waterloo Bridge this afternoon on my way to work was a glimpse into the future I long for. Gone were beeping horns and exhaust fumes, replaced by hordes of people enjoying the sunshine. Cyclists and pedestrians walked down the full width of the road enjoying the views, chatting to one another. Groups of protestors sat on blankets on the floor, like picnicking families. The skate ramp that had been set up was in full use, with young children watching on from the sidelines.

Waterloo Bridge undoubtedly has some of the most amazing views of the London skyline, but I have never seen it so beautiful. The bridge is strewn with plants; flowers, reeds, entire trees. Pastel chalk messages and drawings are underfoot, alongside bunting, flags, and placards. Despite the news coverage of ‘chaos’ and ‘rage’, I have never felt such peace walking across the bridge. You step past the police vans and into a utopia where the people are joyful and the views are stunning. I never realised how much we desperately need ‘public spaces’ until this moment. Protestors have co-opted a road and turned it into a playground. Something in the air has changed (and it’s not just the lack of burning petrol) and everyone in the area can feel it. Suited city businessmen and mothers pushing prams have the same look on their faces, one of surprise but happiness. Maybe it’s the sunshine, or maybe it’s the infectious joy of the people who occupy the bridge. Yes, there are still some who roll their eyes in condescension, but they are few and far between.

There are few moments that you realise will be historic as they happen, but I truly believe that these protests will make the history books. Even just passing through, it is like you’ve stumbled upon a perfectly composed diorama. In just a manner of minutes I saw journalists perched on the barrier interviewing organisers, speeches being given from the stage, and a couple carrying another tree onto the bridge. You’re struck with the feeling that is important, that maybe, just maybe, we’ve got a chance at a better future. The is the first time in my lifetime that I’ve seen this kind of civil disobedience campaign. I’ve had countless lessons on the Greensboro sit-ins, the Montgomery boycotts, but never have I seen people take a stand. I was at the Women’s March, and it was inspiring, but it didn’t feel as monumental. The Women’s March was something we’d been allowed to do, the paperwork had been filed, the speakers booked, the police notified. This is real protest, genuine rebellion. As I walked, elderly women were being walked off of the bridge by the police. In their eyes you see an unmistakeable determination that almost reduced me to tears. There is something incredibly noble about it, seeing someone hold their head high and their values firm even in the face of arrest.

Newspaper may claim that Londoners are disgusted by the disruption, but I couldn’t agree less. I feel nothing but inspired. In a world where it is easy to become disheartened, these people have provided me with a glimmer of hope. There are those who claim that their goals are unrealistic, that they are idealists, that there is no way for us to cut our emissions to zero by 2025. To them I say; I’d rather live in a world of tireless idealists than lazy pessimists. There is no pride to be found in saying “We probably can’t, so we won’t try.”. The real courage is to look at our world, the crisis we are facing, and to defiantly remain an optimist.

Our climate is in crisis, there is no more time to plead with politicians over trivial changes. Using a metal straw rather than a plastic one isn’t going to solve deforestation, temperature change, rising sea levels, rapidly reducing biodiversity, the displacement of indigenous populations as their homes are submerged. We are out of time; thank God Extinction Rebellion is doing something about it.

Drink enough water, don’t forget sunscreen, take action. Until next time, take care of yourself. x