David walked slowly after them, reading the rest of the printing on the back of the cardboard ticket. Mission San Juan Capistrano. Founded November 1st, 1776, California.
The swooping of wings startled him for a moment as he saw the fluttering of white doves all about him. Then he opened his map and guide pamphlet and traced with his finger, the numbered course he was to follow in order to be able to see just about everything. He walked slowly forward, not caring how far away his family might be. He read to himself. Number One. Fountain and the famous white doves of San Juan Capistrano who will greet you and eat from your hand.
His feet crunched on the white gravel as he walked up close to the fountain and watched the splashing of the water over the basin rims. Crowds of the white doves swarmed down and about the feet of the sightseers.
He turned and headed Northeast, reading. Two. Bells have hung in this Campanario since1813. Originally, they were in the bell tower of the great stone church which was destroyed in 1812. He stared at the four bells of assorted sizes, which had cracks and patches of green in the metal. The bell ropes seemed rotting, but they still held strong. The end of the bell rope trailed down over the ivy covered wall and to the ground. He started to move forward and then he read the small sign close by which asked the public to please not pull on the bell rope, for their ringing bears a special significance to the town of Capistrano.
Three. This statue is in honor of the founder of the missions, Junipero Serra. He saw the statue of the Padre speaking to an Indian boy in front of him. Then, David read the placque in the stone base and glanced back up again. It's a real nice statue, he thought, but the birds, the damn birds ain't got no manners. They can sure mess up everything.
David read: Four. Ruins of the great stone church. Construction was begun in 1797, and work continued for nine years. It was dedicated in 1806. The beautiful building was destroyed by earthquake just six years later.
David blinked his eyes and stared harder at the piles of ruins of the church formation. The entire ground plan of the church was constructed in the form of a gigantic cross. Such a pity it was destroyed, he thought, and then a second later, now why am I feeling this way? What's it to me?
He saw people pointing up to the remaining front wall of the church and he read his guide. Five. Many of the nests of the famous swallows are to be seen on the side arch of the ruins of the great stone church. The swallows return from the the southward every year on St. Joseph's Day, March 19th and repair or rebuild these nests. They remain until late Summer when they leave for an unknown destination to the South.
So that's what those messy blobs of clay or whatever they are made of, are. They're stuck here and there all over the wall. I see steel reinforcements keeping the wall standing. I can still see some feathers clinging to the nests and blowing in the wind. Whoops here comes one fluttering down now. I'll see if I can't grab it for a souvenir. Walking past the boundary line, he grabbed the drifting feather in his hand and walked away with it, proudly. He stuck it into the pocket of the white, sweater he was wearing.
This is March, but I guess we must have gotten here too early or something to catch the swallows' visit. Yesterday was the eighteenth and today, hey! Today is the nineteenth! No wonder there's so many people here. I don't see no swallows. Oh well, I guess those crazy birds don't keep very accurate count by the calendar. A lot of people are going to be wasting their time waiting around.
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