Sometimes there are moments when you are waiting for some business in an institution on the 5th or 6th floor. While lingering in the reception area or simply waiting for your turn, you roam the corridors and approach a window. From the modern building with its sparkling glass and concrete walls, you see an old city, as if floating above it, a century or more ago. Thoughts instantly generate images of how it used to be then; you envision yourself as a resident of that city, dressed in period clothing, contemplating their daily life, street lanterns, candles, carriages, and horses. You imagine the people who lived in those houses, peering out of those beautiful windows. You notice details that had been unseen before, lost in your own daily concerns while walking the streets at eye level. You picture yourself as a crow, a pigeon, or a magpie, flying over those buildings and yards, soaring into attic spaces, and much more. It’s like a time machine transporting you to that period until someone pulls you back with the words, “Next, please!”