Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!
      If all roads lead to Rome then all the roads in Rome lead to the Colosseum. Traffic swirls about the ancient structure, car horns blare and buses carry modern day Romans off to their jobs while the magnificent structure looms over it all with the aloof superiority of a nearly two thousand year old survivor.

    Closer yet and pedestrians provide the traffic flow as tourists and street vendors mingle in the age old occupation of commerce. Similar scenes must have been observed in the days of the Roman Empire as money and goods changed hands while a steady stream of humanity flowed into the arena for the bloody games of the Roman Emperors.

    Walking into the vast amphitheater leaves a sense of awe as you look up at stonework towering toward the sky. You can almost hear the echoes of the enthusiastic crowd as you make your way along the central walkway past the remains of the Emperor's box. All the while, beneath your feet, are the exposed passages and chambers where men and animals alike were kept penned in until their time came to entertain the howling spectators. How many people have lost their lives where your feet stand, how many dying eyes have looked upon these stone arches as their blood reddened the dirt of the arena? It's hard to imagine these ruins being haunted by those souls in the bright light of day but nightfall sends the tourists home and the Colosseum is left to it's memories once more.

    Night. Eerie illumination within the arches awakens a softer feeling to the ruins, as if it really existed in another time and you are the intruder here. Traffic still flows on the streets nearby but the sounds are distant and strange like the echoes of the crowd you thought you heard earlier in the sun drenched arena. You stand back at a respectful distance so you can take it all in, breathe in the ethereal atmosphere of these magnificent ruins in the deep of night. Suddenly a shadow begins playing through the arches, a stealthy black specter moves wraithlike along the ancient stones. Your heart seems to stop yet you're drawn toward the shadow, you can't resist, you want to be part of this unique magic. Fear is unthinkable in this communion with the night. You're drawn to the light like a moth to a flame. And there, warming itself by the electric flame, the specter looks you in the eye, fearless in it's own nocturnal element.

    Of course! The shadows were caused by a cat seeking the warmth of a light, but is there ever anything common place about a cat in the night? It's stare dares you to disbelieve in the shadows of the past that linger in these ruins.

    Do you disbelieve?