Shadow of a Bridge

I apologise for the recent outpouring of vitriol but I find it hard not to comment on the excessive obsession of bureaucracy with Health & Safety - in the long term, unless checked, these petty tyrants will destroy our societies. The human race can achieve nothing without taking risks. A child who has grown up in a protective cocoon will be floored by the first unforeseen hazard it encounters; it will have never fallen out of a swing, been bitten by a wasp, spoken to someone it doesn't know, discovered the pitfalls of life for itself. The child will be totally unprepared.

I stepped over a low wall to get this photograph. It took me closer to the river bank but I was never in danger - I was on a solid, horizontal, non-slippery surface. I did not have a safety line, nor a life-jacket, nor a hard-hat. I was a naughty boy. It felt good.

Bridges make interesting images. This one crosses the River Lee to the gas works that so fascinate me. Those pipes and girders cry out to be intimately caressed by my wide-angle lens but I still haven't found a way to get close to them; a tall fence and serious security wire stopped me using the bridge.

I was attracted by the shadows, the strong one across the water and the pointed one running off upstream. Low, winter sunlight made them possible, a wafting sheet of pale yellow spreading across the Docklands of London. It was gorgeous.

Then I made my way back the the studio, ate an instant meal from Tesco's and settled down for an evening of unremitting boredom.