Daily Photo – Alleyway off Crawford Street at 5am

There’s a specific kind of quiet you only find in the narrow gaps between old brick buildings at five in the morning. It’s a heavy, expectant sort of silence, as if the walls are holding their breath, waiting for the city to wake up and start making demands again.

I stumbled into this little pocket of Dunedin while wandering near Crawford Street, my camera tripod clattering far too loudly on the asphalt for such a peaceful hour. On the left-hand wall, a painted white hand reaches out from the bricks, frozen in a permanent, hopeful gesture. Reaching out for a handshake that isn’t coming, or perhaps just desperately searching for a passing flat white.

At the end of the alley, a single, brilliant light crowns the rooftop of the building beyond, cutting through the deep, bruised-blue of the pre-dawn sky. Above, the clouds streak by as if they are in a hurry to get somewhere, while down here, everything is still. It’s just me, the cold pipes, and the heavy weight of local history resting in the mortar. It’s beautiful, it’s moody, and it is definitely time for breakfast.