Democratic in their belief.

 

Every so often a business jet flying low overhead breaks the silence of the village. The aircraft come in from the south, do a long gradual turn over the bay and then settle in for their final approach along the river to the local air base. I'm guessing these are golfers and their teams heading into town after the Ryder Cup in Rome. Some come here by car, others by train and yet others in their Gulfstreams.

In town the students are happily milling around before their first lectures of the day. Being students they are oblivious to passing traffic and are democratic in their belief that the roads belong entirely to them. The students also have the ability to walk through town focused completely on the screens of their mobile phones. This sounds easy but is actually quite difficult to do. 

Off one of the alleyways that bisect the town there's a rather fine door that leads to nowhere. I'm assuming it was the entry to the kitchen garden of a large, long demolished, house. The early morning dew tells me a spider has been busy despite the cold.

Down by the Royal and Ancient we stand a watch four American golfers  and their caddies discuss how to play the final two balls. It turns out that the golfers are two ( highly competitive ) married couples from Phoenix.  Distances are paced out and whispered conversations had. One man lies down on the ground to get a worms eye view of the turf. This is the last hole , the game is evenly matched and all is to play for.

The first woman misses but the second sinks her putt in one. Her husband hollers and leaps like a teenager. He is still hollering and leaping as the caddies gently steer them, hands on backs,  towards the clubhouse. Every so often the husband turns to look back at the green in joyous disbelief.

Back in town a piper is chatting away to a group of tourists. I'm guessing the piper is on the payroll of one of the 5 star hotels. 

The sky at night :https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-023-03054-x