Quiet Stone Streets

An hour after dawn the old city belongs to the pigeons and the bread sellers. From the roof the domes stack up in stages, and the haze takes the far ones first.

Stone and shade

Everything here is the same colour until the sun decides otherwise. I photographed the same rooftops at seven, nine and eleven; the seven o'clock frame is the one where the light divides the city in half.

The roof belongs to a family who sell tea. I paid for four glasses over three mornings and was offered the roof for life.

The flag on the rooftop moved all morning and is still in every frame, because a flag is a wind gauge and the wind was the same wind. Small facts like that are what a series is made of.