Waking up with a city is the only way to see it. At times, it is kind of akin to watching bedraggled people stumble home after a night out: the streets are littered with cigaratte butts, the trash is still loitering on the sidewalks, but it is imperfectly beautiful.
In the morning, Rome is a woman who rocks last night’s mascara oozing sexiness from every pore. I am often on the bus on the way to work watching the iridescent skies when I am seduced by the empty streets around me. I hop off right at Piazza Barberini and wander for 30 minutes before locating the next bus that will (hopefully) get me to work on time.
The images below are the product of one such morning around Christmas time: it was just dark enough for the festive lights to scintillate, but light enough for the powdery morning colours to splash the sky.
The Adopted Italian 