Reflections and Ghosts

There are few places in London where time folds in on itself quite like this spot.

St Paul’s Cathedral stands there, still and unmoved, watching its own reflection caught in the sharp lines of modern glass. A piece of history staring back at the present both pretending not to flinch.

I’ve walked this stretch countless times, but that day something shifted. The light was thin, the air cold enough to carry every footstep. People moved through the frame like smoke - there, and then gone, shadows layered over stone and glass. Ghosts of the living, drifting between eras.

That’s what I love about photographing this city. You start by chasing the light, and end up chasing time itself. Each reflection holds a trace of someone who’s already passed through. Their outlines fade, but their presence lingers just enough to remind you that every moment leaves a mark, even if it’s only for a heartbeat.

And then, as the last figure dissolved into the glare, the street fell silent.

The cathedral stood alone again steady, timeless - while the ghosts of the city slipped quietly back into the glass.