Melbourne Candid Series #1102 Latrobe St

 

Through glass, I gaze where lights softly gleam,
A penthouse perch above the stream
Of La Trobe’s hum, where city sighs
Rise gently under dusking skies.

Inside, a hush before the flare—
The kitchen stirs with quiet care.
White coats move in a measured dance,
A prelude born of skill and chance.

Knives whisper, steam begins to climb,
Cocktails shimmer, caught in time.
Laughter waits in crystal’s ring,
As chefs and waiters, deft, unseen,
Prepare the night’s unfolding art—
Each plate a story, every start
A promise scented, warm, and bright,
Beneath the Melbourne evening light.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 858

Melbourne Candid Series #1101 Latrobe St

 

He stands alone where night hangs low,
LaTrobe beneath a sodium glow.
A bearded face, both lost and tight,
Lit faintly by his phone’s pale light.

His fingers twitch, his eyes sink deep,
Into a screen that doesn’t sleep.
The city's hum just fades behind —
He’s scrolling through a restless mind.

The night moves on, but he stands still,
A shadow carved by aching will.
Addiction’s grip, both cold and kind,
Feeds silence to his wired mind.

The tram rolls past, a whisper gone,
But still he waits, still stares alone.
No message comes to break the spell,
Just endless scroll in digital hell.

A man, a street, a screen held tight,
Another soul blurred out by night.
And somewhere deep, beneath it all —
A human lost, still hoping to call.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 857

Melbourne Candid Series #1100 Latrobe St

 

On LaTrobe beneath the city’s glow,
Where midnight winds begin to blow,
Two shadows drift through silver air —
A pair unlikely, bold and rare.

The elder walks with practiced grace,
A powdered dream in satin lace.
Her gown — thick velvet, regal wide,
A princess lost, yet dignified.

She wears her age like royal thread,
Like Jennifer Coolidge, softly led,
A wistful spark behind her eyes,
A woman wrapped in old goodbyes.

Beside her steps a solemn guide,
A younger soul with priestly stride.
In robes of dark, with collar tight,
She walks like silence through the night.

The city watches, traffic sighs,
As time walks past in pale disguise.
A queen, a priest, a story spun,
Where streetlights blur and trams still run.

No need for reason, rhyme, or fame —
Just two in costume, none the same.
And in their pace, the world might see
A fleeting touch of mystery.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 856 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1099 Latrobe St

 

A flicker, a blur in black and white,
LaTrobe Street hums with ghostly light.
Figures drift through evening’s haze,
Like dreams that walk in city’s maze.

Costumes swirl in shadowed gleam,
Half-seen faces from a fevered dream.
Masks and laughter, heels that glide,
Through the grayscale pulse of Melbourne’s side.

Sequins shimmer, then disappear,
Caught in headlight ghosts that veer.
A cape, a crown, a tangled wig —
Moments vanish, faint and big.

No color names the scene tonight,
Just monochrome and borrowed light.
A party spills from time and street,
Where strangers in disguise all meet.

The tram-line hums a distant song,
While blurred legs dance the night along.
And memory holds what lens can't keep —
A moving dream, half-lost in sleep.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 855

Melbourne Candid Series #1097 Latrobe St

 

On Latrobe Street, where night chills bite,
A chap pulls on his jumper tight.
The breeze slips through the urban sprawl,
And winter whispers over all.

Beside him, in the lamplight's gleam,
Another sits, lost in his stream—
Of stories, laughs, a slanted grin,
A glass of spirit clutched within.

The clink of ice, the breath of gin,
The warmth that stirs somewhere within.
Though cold may creep through coat and bone,
He speaks as if he's not alone.

The city hums, the footfalls fade,
As if this moment's gently made—
Two friends, a street, the hour deep,
While Melbourne rocks itself to sleep.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 853

Melbourne Candid Series #1095 Latrobe St

 

On Latrobe Street where the echoes fall,
A winter hush cloaks over all.
A lady stands in noir attire,
Her voice a flame, her breath a fire.

Beneath her coat, the world grows still,
Each note she casts bends time and will.
Beside her, fingers strum the night—
A guitar sings of loss and light.

The city's pulse slows to her song,
A whispered place where hearts belong.
Footsteps pause in drifting air,
Drawn to music soft and rare.

In shadows deep, her chorus blooms,
A velvet sound that clears the gloom.
On Latrobe Street, the cold and gray
Are warmed by what her voice can say.

Sony A7RV 

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 851

Melbourne Candid Series #1094 Little Bourke St

 

An alley off of Little Bourke,
Where silence wraps the city's murk,
The night breathes low in amber hue,
Street lamps cast their solemn view.

Their golden halos gently fall
On cobblestones, worn smooth and small,
Each stone a story, soft and old,
Of boots and dreams, of hands grown cold.

Shadows stretch along the lane,
In quiet rhythm, soft as rain.
The city's hum is far, then near—
A breath, a step, a whisper clear.

Here secrets cling to brick and wall,
Where time forgets to move at all.
In Melbourne's heart, in hush and gleam,
The alley hums a half-lost dream.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 580

Melbourne Candid Series #1092 Elizabeth St

 

Off Elizabeth, where neon hums
and tram-line dreams in silence come,
a storefront glows with muted grace,
its glass a veil, its light a face.

Inside, a stillness thick and bare—
few figures sit in twilight's care.
By tiled wall and table’s end,
they dine in hush, like time’s own friends.

Their shadows lean with gentle weight,
as if they’ve paused the hands of fate.
Steam curls soft from bowls held near,
warmth the only sound to hear.

No words disturb the breathing light,
just silhouettes against the night—
their stories hinted, not yet told,
in Melbourne’s chill, in silence bold.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 848

Melbourne Candid Series #1091 Latrobe St

 

Latrobe Street Evenings

On Latrobe Street, beneath the night’s soft sigh,
Where city lights like fireflies fly,
Three ladies sit where stories steep—
Outside the café, no time for sleep.

Steam curls from mugs of cocoa warm,
Their laughter weaves through twilight’s charm.
In shawls and smiles, the news they share
Dances gently in the brisk night air.

The trams hum low, the streetlights gleam,
Their words float out like part of a dream.
Between sips and secrets, time slips slow—
In Melbourne’s heart, under lamplight’s glow.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 847 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1090 Latrobe St

 

Late at night, where city lights gleam,
Two girls dine in a penthouse dream.
Menus chalked upon the floor,
Whispers of flavour, tales and more.

Above the world, in quiet grace,
They share a moment, time and place.
Soft voices blend with night’s embrace,
In that high-up, secret space.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 846

Melbourne Candid Series #1087 Swanston St

 

Three girls walk Swanston’s busy way,
Two masked to guard, in cautious sway.
A shadow lingers, unseen but near,
Yet friendship’s light shines bright and clear.

Through Melbourne’s streets, they move with care,
Aware, alert, a silent prayer.
In masks they wear, both shield and sign—
Of strength and hope through troubled time.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 843

Melbourne Candid Series #1086 Swanston St

 

Thick jumper wraps a weary frame,
A middle-aged man, no rush, no aim.
Down Swanston Street he drifts alone,
Among the crowds, yet still unknown.

The city hums, the footsteps blend,
Each step a story, no clear end.
In worn threads wrapped against the chill,
He moves through life, steadfast and still.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 842 and FACE OFF

Melbourne Candid Series #1085 Swanston St

 

On Swanston Street where city sounds swell,
An Indian man, mid-step, begins to tell
A story through static, phone to ear,
His laughter soft, but bright and clear.

On the other side, a cluster stands—
School kids with backpacks, restless hands.
Their eyes are lifted, faces aglow,
At something above they yearn to know.

Perhaps it’s a tram, or a statue’s grin,
Or clouds that dream where thoughts begin.
Each child still in a world so wide,
A marvel caught on the city’s side.

And in that frame, both calm and cheer,
Life strolls by in layers clear—
A street, a glance, a drifting tone,
Where moments meet but walk alone.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Check out Candid 841

Melbourne Candid Series #1084 Swanston St

 

A young woman drifts through the noon-lit stream,
Eyes aglow with a digital dream.
Her fingers dance on a glowing screen,
Unaware of the city's breathing scene.

A slender man with a luxury sway,
Carries brands like banners on display.
His coat is tailored, his pace refined,
Chasing desire by design.

An old man walks with eyes set far,
Past trams and shops and the coffee bar.
He sees the street as it used to be—
Before it buzzed with screens and spree.

The footpath hums beneath their feet,
Time unfolding on Swanston Street.
Past and present softly blend—
Strangers passing, end to end.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 840

Melbourne Candid Series #1083 Swanston St

 

A young man stood on Swanston Street,
With hopeful eyes and restless feet.
Magazines clutched in quiet plea,
A voice half-raised to beckon me.

I met his glance, then looked away,
A silent truth too sharp to say.
He saw it then—no words were said,
Just something gentle in the head.

A flicker passed across his face,
Not anger, just a touch of grace.
The kind that knows the world is wide,
And strangers often must decide.

The crowd flowed on, the trams rolled past,
Yet in that moment, time held fast.
A story paused, then moved once more—
A quiet echo from the core.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 839

Melbourne Candid Series #1082 Presgraves Place

 

One lady steps with careful grace,
A plate of pizza in embrace.
Steam curls above the golden stack,
As warmth and scent trail gently back.

Presgrave Place lies hushed and bare,
No footfalls echo on the air.
The walls lean close in quiet pride,
As if the past still walks beside.

No cars, no haste, no flashing sign,
Just cobbled calm and muted line.
A slice of life, a fleeting scene,
Beneath the sky's soft silver sheen.

Melbourne breathes a borrowed tone,
Its lanes like corners overgrown
From Paris, Rome, or tucked-away
Cafés that hold the light of day.

And here, in hush, with simple cheer,
The lady moves, the food draws near.
A little Europe, close to home—
A lane where wanderers might roam.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 

Check out Candid 838

Melbourne Candid Series #1081 Presgraves Place

 

Two men walk side by side with grace,
Their steps in sync on Presgrave Place.
A quiet lane, a pause in time,
Where stone beneath recalls old rhyme.

Beside them hums a coffee stand,
Its sign hangs low by weathered hand.
The scent of beans, the hiss of steam,
Drifts gently through a midday dream.

The pavement holds a classic tone,
Each slab a tale, each crack well known.
Their shadows stretch, then slip away,
As if the past walks on today.

No crowd, no rush, just muted sound,
In this small place where peace is found.
A hidden thread in city’s lace—
Two men, one street, one quiet pace.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 837

Melbourne Candid Series #1077 Flinders Station

 

Two men alike, with mirrored face,
In Flinders’ shadow, find their place.
One upright stands, phone in hand,
The other sits, as if he planned
To mirror thought in silent air,
Twin figures lost in digital stare.

The station looms with urban grace,
Time etched deep in every face.
But to the left—a ghost in frame,
An Italian man, unknown by name.
In black and white, he walks alone,
A traveler through this monochrome.

Three souls, one frame, and time stands still,
Each chasing moments, each their will.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Check out Candid 833

Melbourne Candid Series #1076 Little Flinders Lane - next to St Paul Cathedral

 

By St Paul’s shade, where spires climb high,
A hush beneath the bustling sky—
Two souls in pause, a fleeting scene,
Among the stones and city green.

One stands in shorts, knee-length and neat,
The other rests with crossed-up feet,
A coffee warm within her hand,
As traffic hums across the land.

They talk of nothing, maybe dreams,
While sunlight dances off the beams;
A pocket space the world walks past,
But here, the morning dares to last.

Just off the lane where few things stay,
Two people meet, then drift away.

Sony A7RV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Check out Candid 832

Melbourne Candid Series #1072 Little Bourke St China Town

 

A chef in white with blade in hand,
Moves swift as silk, precise and grand;
The cleaver sings, a steely hum,
As golden skin and flesh succumb.

The duck lies whole, its journey done,
Crisped by fire, by craft, by sun.
Each stroke reveals a secret lore—
Of banquet halls and emperors’ war.

Steam rises soft in evening air,
Spiced perfume drifting everywhere;
And down the lane, the watchers wait,
Drawn close by scent, by luck, by fate.

On Little Bourke, where old meets new,
Tradition carves the world in two.

Sony A7RV

FE 24mm f1.4 GM

Check out Candid 828