The church was closed — on Sunday! — because we got there
during siesta. But it was beautiful and striking all the same. The
squat buildings' rich Italian earth tones provided a sharp contrast to
their varied surroundings in the brilliant afternoon sun: a glistening
stone pathway, the pale, feathery olive trees, the towering, dark, Italian
cypress, the purple Apennines far in the distance. It was San Damiano's
cross that “spoke” to St. Francis and told him to “rebuild my church.”
This particular ancient church, however, seems perfect just as it is.
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