In mid afternoon, the Colosseum is tinged in chalky white. At sunset, the Colosseum is baked in shades of sienna. The exposed inner rim was pockmarked by medieval robbers in search of iron clamps. My favorite view of the Colosseum is from the Via Sacra where ancient columns provide a linear frame to the elliptical curve of the Colosseum's walls. Past events in this ancient amphitheater are put to bed in the dark shadows of night. If only walls could talk, what a fright they would tell! An excerpt from Lord Byron's Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto the Fourth, (1818): A Ruin — yet what Ruin! from its mass Walls — palaces — half-cities, have been reared; Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass, And marvel where the spoil could have appeared. Hath it indeed been plundered, or but cleared? Alas! developed, opens the decay, When the colossal fabric's form is neared: It will not bear the brightness of the day, Which streams to
“If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay at home.” - James Michener