Blue Hour in the Latin Quarter

Paris at blue hour is a negotiation between sodium light and cooling sky. I walked without a map, letting the river act as a compass.

The Latin Quarter narrows. Cafés spill warmth onto the pavement. I kept the camera low, slower shutter, letting motion blur become part of the sentence.

By the time true night arrived, the rain had stopped. Reflections doubled the city—one above, one below—and for a moment it was difficult to tell which version was real.