I keep my eyes angled upward when passing through an area of unfamiliar buildings. Sometimes there are surprises on high, atop the shingles, steel, or tarred surfaces of a roof. It may be a sculpture, a dummy stuffed with newspaper or straw, a bicycle, or other things clearly belonging on the ground.
Roofs are the defining characteristic of a building, the very essence of shelter. A functional necessity that keeps out the weather, most are fairly standard and dull, hardly meriting a glance, though there are spectacular exceptions. A roof of architectural virtuosity might draw my attention, but I’m more likely to do a double take when something quirky and out-of-place is sitting on the shingles. Objects that don’t belong draw my eye and induce smiles.