Andros, Parapórti, Houses

Parapórti's cubic houses step down the hillside, their pale walls bearing the full load of an Aegean noon.

A midday stillness settles over everything. Your eye follows that diagonal line of roofs, down into the cluster of houses pressed together on the hillside. The walls hold all that sun—crisp whites and soft ochres. Then you find the cool blue of the shutters and the terracotta warmth on the tiles, with earthy browns resting deep in the shadows. The lines of the buildings are so sure, yet the plaster breathes with a rougher texture. Light falls so cleanly, cutting sharp shadows that give each volume its weight. Not a soul in the lanes. Heat sits over the whole village, slow and patient, holding the hour in place.