The French Quarter contains multitudes. While most love the wild nights on Bourbon, my favorite time in the old square is morning. All the roads are unblocked and supplies are getting brought in. Cooks and bartenders and storekeepers enjoy the slower time of day, leaning in door frames. Gentle hammering is in the background as the old homes get worked on. Hustlers move about quietly biding their time until the drunk outnumber the sober. The light stays diffuse as to not offend anyone with a hangover as they try to make their way home in the dawn hours.
