The roofline of a city tells you everything

I was driving through a town this morning and noticed how the rooftops leaned — not structurally, but in the way they’d been shaped by decades of wind, rain, and people’s quiet choices. No two were the same. One had a solar panel tilted like it was praying. Another had a rusted satellite dish, half-buried in ivy. I kept thinking: if you wanted to know what a place truly believed in, you wouldn’t look at its monuments. You’d look at where the rain ran off.