Water throws ripples of light to dance across coloured walls in constantly moving patterns.

Light and shadow play through the alleys, sunlight painting the walls and the water.

Swifts scream in the air high above. The best way to see the sky, to look down in the water where blue reflects and birds fly low to dip and drink.

Evening gathers people to the square, dogs on leads flop to the ground to dream of running loose with the grass beneath their feet while owners stand and talk.

Early morning market smells of fresh picked plump strawberries, a palette of colours, bunches of fat leaved basil, asparagus. Boats shift goods around lifting boxes to the canal side.

Pigeons sing early and swifts begin their constant calling. From windows on corners music floats down to the water. A pianist practices. From a cafe, sipping wine we hear a piccolo, notes wrapping around the square where stalls at a flee market sell old shards of medieval pottery, glass lamps and sunglasses.

Fruit of the sea, silver and shining, fish like jewels and smelling sweet and fresh. Squid dark with ink and swordfish heads. A lobster, blue, bigger than the dogs that trot at their master's heels.

Wheels of artichoke cut by the barrel load, and sun on the water.

Mist over the Grand Canal and a tale of the Island of the Lost Cats. Icons with flowers. At the Rialto Bridge an icon, with the face worn smooth, by the wind and weather, or by people touching for a blessing?

Canaries in cages in lace shaded windows mix their songs with the music of a lute.

Winged lions and dragons. Masks and puppets, magic and shadow, light and water.

Thistledown blown on the breeze.