Even the sun seems to pause for a moment in Adelaide traffic.

The light softened as I reached the edge of the intersection. The sun hung low between the buildings, its rays spilling onto the asphalt like liquid gold. A cyclist paused mid-crossing to adjust their helmet while a group of office workers lingered at the curb, their chatter blending with the hum of passing cars. The trees swayed faintly above it all, their leaves catching fragments of sunlight. A man in a green vest directed traffic with a casual authority that seemed to match the rhythm of the evening. It was a fleeting moment where movement and stillness coexisted—an urban ballet under a sky that seemed to hold its breath. Somewhere nearby, laughter echoed faintly from an open café door.