When I was in St George's Hospital a few years ago there was quite an unimpressive view from the ward windows, stretching from St Mary's spire in Wimbledon to a maze of railway lines and unlovely tower blocks.

What a contrast to the view from Kingston Hospital where I spent a recent spell. We could see for miles and miles, from the billowing trees of Richmond Park to the glittering runway lights of Heathrow.

I spent a lot of time trying to identify various points. Where was the river? What were those cathedral-like blocks on the horizon? What was the rising ground beyond the airport?

One evening there was the most wonderful sunset, intersected every few minutes by the slim out outline of plane after plane.

One almost held one's breath as we envisaged the captain and crew obeying implicitly the airport controller's directions, following the runway lights and finally disappearing from view.

To gaze at such a glorious sunset, together with so many specimens of man's ingenuity in a peaceful setting was a very good palliative for care and stress.

And when daylight returned, what were those cathedral-like buildings that had stood out so powerfully? Why, they had diminished to dreary office blocks. A telling case of distance lending enchantment to the view?

But the shade of the trees in Richmond Park and the unwavering progress of the planes towards Heathrow mirror faithfully the poets description of a city "a sight so touching in its majesty".

And surely beauty, and steadiness in obeying what we know to be right are Christian virtues.

MISS M DAWSON

Dunmore Road

SW20

May 30, 2003 10:00