A dense and uniform veil of clouds fills the night sky over Hong Kong, serving as soft backdrop reflecting a deep purple haze above the city. Even without the clouds, the light from building-bound billboards and corporate logos lining Victoria Harbour and boosted by the residential and office towers from surrounding neighborhoods would overpower the faint pinpoints in the vast space overhead.
The players on the brilliantly illuminated Po Kong Village football pitches, faint wisps and blurs of their yellow uniforms captured during practice by the long exposure, are likely less concerned in the moment with locating a nighttime constellation than with finding an undefended corner of the goal. Should they have a break in their scrimmage and look up from the field, the closest they’ll have to stars in the sky are the countless lights from the city’s sometimes overwhelming architecture.
From a vantage point near Tate’s Cairn, the city’s glowing expanse is silent. Too far below and too buffered by the mountainside trees for the evening’s noise to reach. Just the occasional whir and patter from late evening cyclists and joggers braving the modestly-lit single lane roads carved up and down between the city and Kowloon Peak. Just remember that a hike up this way to watch a sunset over the skyscraper-wrapped bay means a long walk back down in the dark.