The Campo di San Maurizio, where I live, has old palazzos on three sides and these buildings on the fourth. I haven’t counted how many churches there are in the immediately vicinity, but let’s say lots, or so it seems from the number of different bells that ring extremely loudly from 7 am onwards. In the spaces inbetween I hear the soft sound of the square being swept after the seagulls have completed their daily dawn raid of the rubbish bags left out for collection. Sometimes I open the shutters to be confronted by a group of bleary-eyed tourists dragged out too early by remorseless tour operators. They do a lot of gazing at the church on the left of this picture. Last time I stayed here this church was a lot tattier, and had crumbling angels on each corner of the roof. I’m not sure whether it was one of these that fell to the ground, as in John Berendt’s book: City of Falling Angels, but in any case, they were removed for safety’s sake, and the church now looks rather dull and proper. Not so the bell tower behind, which really does lean as it appears to in the photo. Last night there was a continuous electric storm going on, which never amounted to any rain, nor it seems, came anywhere near us, but was spectacular nonetheless. Another variation for me.