In this Rainy image of Kings Cross, the facade of the Station glows bright orange yellow against the blue and slightly murky sky. Arched windows, multifaceted squares of glass, create dark contrasts. Like the station has two eyes looking out on the world. And like eyes, they show a glimpse of what’s inside. Rows of arches supporting the roof of the station. And yet more windows to shed light on the scene within.
The forecourt is divided, with sections of differing hues, sloping at different angles. Large black stripes, mark the main paved area. These slabs are wet, and the puddles reflect numerous people making their way deliberately into the station, out of the rain. Many have umbrellas, their little sky shields hiding their heads and faces, as well as keeping them dry. Those without personal shelter, huddle down in their coats, focusing on the way ahead. They all stare at ahead, oblivious to the looming reflections in the vast puddles.
Nothing escapes the reflections, even the station itself is trapped in a fluid mirror. Its outline undulating as ripples flow out from where raindrops break the water’s surface. It’s obviously a wet and dreary day, but colour creeps in. A bright blue Brolly, red scarf, yellow rucksack and pink flagstones, the foreground paving in particular, is a riot of colour. An attempt to escape the dreary day.
All those people milling around. Now immortalised in a rainy image of Kings Cross by a few lines. They are heading where, I wonder? We know not who they are or where they are heading. Captured, as passers by, in a scene which they may never see again, or destined to repeat the journey tomorrow and the day after, and so forth.
