7:30 Bells: Swallows in Siena

Siena dusk. Summer. The swallows flying so fast and thick in the sky I could scoop them up with a net. On the hill, the marble duomo begins to shine in the light of the rising moon. The Now--the ephemeral swallows flying—and The Past—the thousand-year-old duomo—merged and showed me what eternity meant. And exaltation.

How the bells rang!

This past week, I wondered if there was any point in writing if few listen. Dark winters are always hard . . . I was born for summer. So I watched this video from my trip to Italy last June. I thought it might lift my spirits to remember a time when the bell rang wildly. 

It did.

When the bell tower stands in shadow, when only silence seems to come back across the hill, I remember that it's more important for the bell to ring than for the bell to be heard.

LORE OF THE BELL: It is more important to ring, than to be heard.