Time, in old objects, has its own soul.

No, this is an unfounded statement, but sometimes it seems so.

Looking at modern buildings, I see only boxes of steel, glass and concrete, but when I stand in front of an old building, I can feel its breath.

Tens, hundreds of years that flashed in front of the walls of such houses are like a light haze that rushes into the sky, time is merciless to the stone of these walls, it exposes the soul of these buildings, which is part of the souls of those who designed them, built and lived in them .

It is difficult to say or give an exact definition of the feelings that I experience, standing near the centuries-old walls, but it is akin to the transition from wakefulness to sleep, when you plunge into the thick fog of dreams, quickly and uncontrollably to yourself.

I decided to try to recreate such sensations with the help of a monochrome photograph, as far as I succeeded, you be the judge.

![1apsilonDSC01253(1).png](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/barski/23zbHJXMg5KB8vGftqpWi8j3jSEFApADHfYotha4T719YXrfeUdxyFVW9XdGLGyM3eZNE.png)

Photos taken with a Sony Cyber-shot DSC-HX300 camera.

Author @barski