Possibly the coldest morning of my time in Prague. Perched atop Letenská Hill in -3°C (I feel the weather app was lying to me), I looked out over a waking city, rooftops glowing softly, chimneys puffing gently into the crisp February air.

This was the perfect moment to photograph the layers of history woven into the architecture below. Then something surreal happened. As the sun crept up, its golden rays scattered through a fine veil of cloud, flooding the scene with an ephemeral wash of pink. For a few brief minutes, everything was bathed in rose, an atmosphere so rich it lifted the colour from every rooftop and facade.

And just as quickly as it arrived, it was gone. The sky turned flat and grey, as if nothing had happened. But I had the photo. A fleeting palette of Prague, some moments don’t need to last long to be unforgettable.

Photo by: Bradley Basten