I got to Venice at six am on Christmas Eve.
The sun was rising on St Mark’ s Square.
Bells were ringing all over the city, interrupting the serenity of the approaching dawn.
As I was walking, I captured this image totally off the cuff while I was heading to my hotel. The gondolas were lined up in the harbor, their shadows cast on the waters of the lagoon.
Dark and mysterious, they typified the secrets of Venice.
I checked into my hotel, a favorite spot with ex patriot Americans, I heard laughing and headed to the bar. It had been a long trek to Venice.
The Pope was on TV. I ordered a Campari and soda and toasted the holiday, along with a room full of revelers.