First Light Over London
I’m in London this week on a photography commission for some of the city’s historic livery companies. My days are set to be filled with grand halls, centuries-old traditions, and portraits steeped in heritage but as is often the case when I travel for work, the camera doesn’t stay packed away for long.
Yesterday, I set the alarm for far earlier than is strictly sensible. While the city still slept, I made my way to a spot with a view of London’s ever-evolving skyline. The streets were hushed, the river calm, and the air carried that unmistakable chill of first light.
As the sun edged closer to the horizon, the glass and steel towers of the City began to take on a subtle glow. The silhouettes of The Shard, the Walkie Talkie, and the other modern giants stood out starkly against the deepening orange of the dawn sky. Slowly, the lights inside the buildings began to flicker on like the city itself was waking, one window at a time.
It’s always fascinating to see London in this state. The rush hour is still some way off, the pavements empty, the river undisturbed. There’s a moment, just before the day begins, where the city seems to take a breath.
For me, mornings like this are a reminder of why I love photography. Yes, I’m here for a specific commission, and the work ahead is exciting in its own right. But it’s these unexpected moments, when you stand in quiet awe of a view and know you’re seeing the city in a way most won’t, that truly stay with you.
And as the first rays of sunlight finally broke through, casting a warm glow over the skyline, I knew it had been worth every minute of the early start.
