


Tailandia
Perched in a neat, almost deliberate row along a weathered wooden shelf, five roosters survey the scene below with sharp, watchful eyes — their crimson combs and glossy black-and-copper feathers standing out vividly against the rusted corrugated metal and worn timber of this narrow backstreet. Plastic buckets and cups sit tucked between them, ordinary objects repurposed into this makeshift perch, while below, a tangle of wire mesh, clothing hung out to dry, and weathered signage tells the story of daily life layered into every corner of the space. There's a rawness to this image that feels distinctly local — no staged composition, just the unfiltered texture of a working alleyway where roosters roam freely among laundry lines and storage crates. The warm, low afternoon light adds a cinematic quality to the scene, catching the sheen of the roosters' feathers and casting long shadows across the rusted textures below. It's a photograph that finds beauty in the overlooked — a quiet corner of urban life where animals and people share space without pretense, and where five roosters lined up on a shelf become an unexpected, striking subject.