Flinders Station, shades of grey,
Whispers stories worn away.
Stone and shadow, time stands tall,
Echoes move where footfalls fall.
A young man crosses, sleek and fast,
In monochrome, his moment passed.
Jacket crisp, his gaze ahead,
In silent film, where words are shed.
Past and present, black and white,
Merge and blur in morning light.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 834
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
Beneath the sunless Melbourne sky, he stood,
A crew-cut crown above his collar’s hood.
In monochrome, the city stilled its breath,
As lens and light danced near the edge of death.
He held a phone—his compass, guiding grace—
Among the stone and steel, he found his place.
Little Collins hummed with hurried feet,
While ghostly echoes marched in blur and beat.
To left, the buildings bowed in warped delight,
Their edges twisted, bending out of sight.
No architect had dreamt such curving lines—
It was the shutter’s spell, not man's designs.
A fastened eye, wide-open to the day,
Had caught the moment men would drift away.
The sensor’s speed, in chasing fleeting form,
Distorted calm, reshaped the city’s norm.
To right, a Coles truck idled, humming low,
Its crimson name now cloaked in shadow's glow.
Behind the man, a tide of life did swell—
A straddled bag, a story yet to tell.
And in this frame of fleeting time and grace,
A world unmeant found stillness in its place.
The camera wept what eyes could never keep:
The dream of day now locked in grayscale sleep.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 821
His face is split by the camera’s frame,
Caught side-on, unnamed, a flicker, a flame.
He walks too fast, a ghost in flight,
Slipping through the edge of sight.
Behind him, Hosier hums and calls,
Graffiti and murals crowd the walls—
A riot of colour, a frozen shout,
As he blurs past, fading out.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 820
In front of black glass, five figures stand,
Each lost in thought, no guiding hand.
The street reflects in polished pane,
A ghost of Little Flinders Lane.
One checks a phone with furrowed brow,
Another scans the world somehow.
A third just leans, no place to be,
The fourth stares out, too far to see.
The last stands still, like carved-out stone,
Together near, yet all alone.
The building watches, dark and wide,
A silent witness on the side.
In black and white, the moment stays—
Five quiet lives in their own ways.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 819
Off Little Flinders, where shadows lean,
A laneway hums, soft and serene.
A café breathes its easy charm,
Far from the city's roaring harm.
A worker rests, boots thick with dust,
Helmet down, tools left in trust.
At a tall table, phone in hand,
He drifts beyond the workday’s land.
Messages flicker, the world slows down,
Steel and concrete lose their crown.
In Melbourne’s heart, beneath the sky,
A simple moment idles by.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 818
Three youths stroll down Elizabeth Street,
City’s pulse beneath their feet.
Eyes like stars, dreams in flight,
Skyscrapers gleam in midday light.
In Melbourne's heart, so vast, so free,
Asian roots weave silently.
Forty percent and rising still,
A city shaped by every will.
Cultures blend like evening haze,
Languages ripple through alleyways.
Each step a story, proud and bold,
In streets where histories unfold.
So let them walk, and let it be—
A portrait of diversity.
In every face, a world to see,
Melbourne hums in harmony.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 815
On Swanston Street beneath the sky,
A young man scrolls as strangers pass by.
His eyes are fixed on a glowing screen,
Lost in a world that can't be seen.
Behind him stands a quiet gaze,
An Asian man in the city's haze.
He looks ahead with steady grace,
Unmoved by time, in his own place.
A delivery bike rests by the wall,
Wheels stilled in the evening sprawl.
Moments pause in the city’s hum—
Stories unfold, then swiftly come undone.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 812 and FACE OFF
He walks where the city forgets to dream,
Off Swanston’s pulse, in a side-street seam.
An old man carved from dusk and ache,
Thin as memory, too brittle to break.
Beret tilted like a wounded crown,
Eyes cast low, like the heavens frown.
Each step a whisper, each breath a thread,
The living ghost of a life half-dead.
In his hand—O fate!—a paper curled,
Tight as secrets that once rocked the world.
Is it a letter? A map? A name?
A poem never read, or a war’s last flame?
The trams don’t pause for men like this,
Worn to the bone by what they miss.
Yet still he moves, through wind and grime,
Dragging behind the weight of time.
No one sees him—just a blur,
Of beret, bones, and something sirred.
But somewhere deep, the city knows,
He walks with all its buried prose.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 809 and FACE OFF
A young chap strides with a rhythm bold,
Curly hair wild, like stories untold.
Down Swanston Street where the city hums,
He walks to the beat of invisible drums.
Large earphones wrap his head in sound,
A private concert as feet meet ground.
Dock pants swish with a casual flair,
Swagger of youth, breeze in the air.
The trams roll by, the pigeons flee,
But he's lost in a world only he can see.
Basslines bounce through his steady pace,
A grin half-formed on his traveler's face.
Melbourne moves with its usual din,
But he’s wrapped in music, deep within.
Not chasing time, just catching a vibe,
A living pulse in the city's tribe.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 807
A tall, slender man in a suit so neat,
Glides down Swanston with echoing feet.
His coat catches wind like a fleeting thought,
A figure of grace the morning forgot.
Phone in his hand, face lit by the screen,
Eyes on the glow, lost in the sheen.
Among the crowd, yet utterly lone,
Each soul adrift in a world of their own.
Trams hum past with a city’s refrain,
Umbrellas bloom in a whisper of rain.
The old stones watch with quiet delight,
At men made of flesh but minds made of light.
So he walks, like the rest—plugged and apart—
A shadow of steel with a fast-beating heart.
In the dance of the modern, the digital stream,
Reality bends like a half-faded dream.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 806
Down Little Bourke, mid city’s hum,
A man walks on, his fingers numb.
His hairline fades with time’s embrace,
Yet focus lights his solemn face.
Eyes fixed upon the glowing screen,
Unmoved by all the urban scene,
He drifts through crowds in silent zone,
A world away, yet not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 805
On Collins Street where traffic swells,
A rider waits as red light dwells.
With jacket thick 'gainst wind and rain,
He leans upon his silent frame.
A satchel wide upon his back,
Stuffed full along its heavy track,
His front wheel strays beyond the line,
Encroaching where the walkers dine.
Yet on his head, a helmet worn—
A modest grace in urban scorn.
He lingers still, both still and sly,
Beneath the watchful Melbourne sky.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 804
Upon Lonsdale Street, in twilight's shade,
A weary man, mid-years and grey,
With bottle dark in hand he strayed,
Its label long since peeled away.
A heavy sack upon his arm,
With secrets cloaked in cloth and thread,
He moved with neither haste nor charm,
Where quiet city footsteps led.
His beard was worn by time’s slow tide,
Now streaked with ash, with silver lined,
And through a strolling pair he tried
To weave his path, as if inclined—
By purpose strange, or whims unknown,
He wandered on, yet not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 803
Down Elizabeth Street he strides alone,
a slender thread in the city’s tone,
jacket sharp in the autumn breeze,
moving swift with elegant ease.
Fancy ear pods crown his ears,
drowning out the city's cheers—
lost in rhythm, thought, or beat,
a silent world beneath his feet.
Glass and tramlights dance on skin,
as day and noise blur deep within.
He walks a line both near and far,
tethered to sound like a distant star.
Melbourne hums its morning tune,
but he moves on, immune, immune—
a figure drawn in motion's ink,
on city streets that barely blink.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 802 and FACE OFF
On Hosier Lane where colors gleam,
They pose beneath a spray-can dream.
Graffiti walls, bold strokes and flame,
Now backdrop to their fleeting fame.
He lifts his chin, his left knee bent,
A tilted grin, all cool intent.
The street a stage, his stance precise,
Caught mid-pose like thrown-back dice.
She holds the phone with steady grace,
An upright calm upon her face.
A frame composed, no words to say—
Their story told in light and spray.
They’re not just two among the crowd,
But stars beneath the street art cloud.
In digital ink, the moment stays,
Two hearts immortalised in haze.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 801
On Swanston Street, a scene unfolds,
A man with ear pods, a story untold,
Nibbling banquette, with focus keen,
A modern dance, where tech meets cuisine.
Two young men stroll with ease in tow,
Ear pods snug, as the world flows,
Lost in their rhythm, with nothing to say,
Just the pulse of the city, guiding their way.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 800
I had to turn on full moderation for comments now. I just received over 160 spams in my comments yesterday. This is really terrible.
He cuts through Swanston, sharp and fast,
A midday blur that’s built to last.
His blazer lifts, a sailing wing,
Caught in the city's bustling swing.
Lunch in hand—a humble prize,
Foam container, warm and wise.
Steam curls up like fleeting dreams,
Between the shops and tram bell screams.
The clock, it chases; he won't yield,
A soldier of the office field.
In every stride, a mission clear,
To beat the hour, to disappear.
Yet in that flight, a quiet grace,
A dance of motion, time, and place—
Where hunger meets the weekday grind,
And Swanston watches, half-aligned.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 GM
Check out Candid 799
Two ladies sit where stories flow,
At a small round table, soft and slow,
Outside a shop with faded grace,
Time etched deep on its weathered face.
Peeling paint and a doorway worn,
Whispers of decades gently torn.
In Collingwood, where styles collide—
The hip, the free, the cool reside.
They sip and laugh in morning’s hue,
Among the ghosts and something new.
Where hippie hearts and trendsetters meet,
Their voices mingle on the street.
A moment caught in urban bloom,
With rust and charm and café fume—
Two souls in talk, the world drifts by,
Beneath the patchwork of the sky.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 797
In Melbourne’s heart where colors blend,
Hosier Lane, where murals mend.
A canvas loud, a painted stream,
Where art and life entwine in dream.
Amidst the walls so wild, alive,
A young pair struck a pose with vibe.
She raised the phone, her head askew,
Framing the street in vibrant hue.
He tapped his ear, a wicky style,
A playful smirk, a carefree smile.
Graffiti glowed in neon spray,
Yet love outshone the art that day.
The shutter clicked, a flash so fleet,
A fleeting pose on painted street.
Yet in that frame, so bold, so free,
Their moment lived—eternally.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Check out Candid 793 and FACE OFF
