Walking distracted towards my destination. A to B. When, stopping me in my tracks, I hear the bellowing bells in the brick orange tower clang raucously together: ding. ding. ding. The transcendent, abiding sound of metal against metal, that has signalled many a moment. Contrary in variety. I look up at the origin of the alarm which tells me another hour has gone by; the sky about it is a grey-blue in colour, kind of bleak and the colour of oblivion. But the orange of the centuries old building creates a kind of beautiful contrast- the preservation of Time, the change that occurs over Time, the stillness of Time.