Paloma, an elderly woman, lives in Cyrene, where she spends her days feeding breadcrumbs to the ever-present pigeons flocking about her feet west of the Artisan Plaza fountain. Her kindly face is wrinkled with time and framed by greying hair tied haphazardly into a bun, and she pulls her worn woollen shawl tight across her shoulders as her soft-spoken voice calls out to the birds feeding at her feet.