I love many aspects
of this place, but the hearing the bells of the old churches holds a special
place. I don't know why, I'm not very religious, but there is something
soothing and haunting at the same time to think that men and women for hundreds
of years have heard these bells ring, their sounds carried across the rooftops
of the old city. What did those people think of the bells? Were they a symbol
of a church that dominated their lives? Did they represent their connection to
the divine? Or do they hear them as I hear them now, bells that count the hours
of our lives and mark our journey day-to-day through this life?
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