There’s a centaur at Canary Wharf. He stands outside the Jubilee Line entrance on Upper Bank Street, looking through the trees to the water at Wood Wharf, beautiful, damaged, alone.
I made a promise to myself to spend some time really looking at him. On 6th November, just after seven in the morning, as a perfect sunrise spread true gold, I kept that promise. And after I’d looked, and marvelled, I took photos. From 7.33 to 7.38 (inclusive, for my pedant chums) I snapped a run of images on a basic camera.
Maybe it was the light, but I think they capture a little of his desolate and haunting beauty.
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- Sunrise at Wood Wharf
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- Sun through trees: what the Centaur sees
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- Centaur, front
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- Credits
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- On the plinth…
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- haunting images
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- of beautiful fragility
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- and terrible emptiness.
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- As the sun rises and people hurry past
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- he watches
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- alone.
Helen McCarthy: A Face Made for Radio 
You don’t half get around to see interesting places and stuff.
I do – but I think part of it is that my father taught me very early on to look at everything and be mindful of my surroundings instead of just racing through them. So I notice any beauty around me, even in a place one might not think of as beautiful, and I look for quirkiness and joyous oddity wherever I go.
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