new musings on a several-month-old trip:

Every day the muezzin sing from minarets for men to come and pray; every day the song goes bouncing off walls that are a thousand years old and older. The minarets go on carrying song, even after we leave, after we go back to Oxford, where the bells of Magdalen College hum a different kind of tune. Melodic clockwork: the old water clock across from the Medersa Bou Inania ceased working years ago; but from every corner of Fés you can mark time by the flow of men to mosque.