Autumn in Nuremberg has a color that feels washed by time: orange rooftops, gray stone walls, and a few birds crossing above the river.
The medieval old town was almost flattened during World War II, and much of what you see now was rebuilt afterward according to the old forms. But walking there, it does not feel like a replica. Life has spent another eighty years on the new stones, and they have grown old in their own way.
I stayed only two days, but I still remember the light from those two days very clearly.