I like reflections especially if they are on a grand scale. In fact one of my previous posts in October 2017 focused on this. They show a world apart from the one I inhabit, are mysterious and deep though they exist only on a surface, no depth at all. Imagine my excitement when we came across a waved, glass-sided building in York Way en route for Coal Drops. The reflections looked like a painting.
We had been told of the development behind Kings Cross Station alongside Regent’s Canal and decided to have a look. The station itself is well worth a visit, the Victorians built to last with such Panache , confidence and style. I had not realised that the canal development was once a coal yard, Coal Drops Yard. We approached it along the south bank of the canal where there is still much building taking place. I like watching boats I suppose because of the times I spent with my Father on his various vessels. A motorised barge came by towing a house boat. The waterfowl in the bottom right hand corner was taking no notice!
There is a large open space with water shooting up from the ground and several food huts. One selling Taiwanese lunch boxes had a very long queue that never seemed to reduce. We had lunch in a Brasserie which was very pleasant but I’d like to try the lunch box next time we go. If we are early enough they may be no queue. I took a photo of the water feature but not the huts.
The shops looked boring and were probably too expensive but it is early days yet, the area has to settle in. I took some shots including one of the gasometers that had been converted to apartments at over £800,000 each. A welcome and interesting use of our industrial heritage.
On the way back we stopped on the bridge where York Way crosses the canal:
looking West is was quite spacious but narrow to the East and looking up We spotted elephants!
and further along Harry Potter.
The reflections in the wavy glass building were quite different looking South.
Finally me having fun and a poem on reflections and my fascination with the thought that water has been everywhere and the water in my body has occupied millions since time began.
Epron – Deux Sevres
I reach for the other world of cloud, trees and sky
but it’s not there; only the cold and weeds,
great fish that tickle my fingers.
At the weir a knife has sliced along its edge,
peeled it back to lay bare a turbulent cascade.
I could follow it, spinning in my coracle,
bounce amongst continents, come to another land
where it rains, joins the bodies of women and men
transpires through trees, shrubs and them
to drift back through sea and air, fall here and there,
rain again, where I am now.
© Anthony Fisher January 2006