Mike's Last Work Day

My last day of waking up at 4.50 in the morning! The weather was forecast to be sunny so I brought our camera. I decided to capture some of my favourite scenes of my morning commute. I used shutter priority to avoid motion blur, and since I shoot in RAW format, I could adjust the exposure afterwards, to share images like these:

Manningtree, with boats at low tide ...


The canal leading towards Canary Wharf ...


And The City from the east side, with a great view of The Gherkin's girth ...


I was already in a sad, contemplative mood, but in a good way, realising this was my last chance to see many of these sights. I played music at the same time. My song of the day: Cry by Godley and Creme; artist of the day: Saint Etienne, perfect English pop for a summer day.

I've also wanted to capture this image for some time. Often, instead of walking Moorgate to the office, I walk a bit further to Bath Street, looking up at this Barbican tower, and especially looking at those little oval windows at the top, like portholes, and wondering how bright the sun is for those inside.


My office day was mostly normal. I invited teammates to one more lunch with me at The Eagle, and many accepted. Someone called for cheers.


I was glad that we ended up telling jokes.


I did some more work, and then it was time to leave. I hate, hate, HATE farewells ... they're so awkward! A teammate gathered the rest of the office to say goodbye and presented me with the card that they had left messages with. As uncomfortable as I am being the centre of attention, I managed to express some appreciation. I went around and said my goodbyes and walked out the office doors for the last time.

Walking back toward Liverpool Street station, on autopilot, I carried my stupid grin, basking in the goodwill expressed by my teammates. Sad, but in a good way.

I was a half hour early, so I stopped at the Corney and Barrow wine bar in front of the Liverpool Street entrance, and got a glass of South African Shiraz from an estate named Nelson. My goodwill haze was fuelled further as I read the farewell messages in my card.


I played more music on the way back, thinking on people and scenes I won't see again. A certain song pressed the nerve especially hard. Was I crying? No, no, just something in my eye ... but in a good way.