The Opera House looks like it's ready to set sail.

From this vantage point, the Opera House seemed less like a building and more like a living entity rising effortlessly from the water. Its white sails caught the sunlight with an almost theatrical poise, as though it were preparing for an unseen audience. Across the harbor, ferries cut through the water with precision, leaving faint trails that shimmered before vanishing into nothingness. The city behind it hummed quietly, its towers standing in muted reverence to this architectural marvel. I leaned on the railing and watched as a seagull hovered briefly overhead before diving toward the water. For a moment, it felt as though everything in this scene—the gull, the sails, the waves—was part of some grand performance orchestrated by time itself.