The marble steps of the Pantheon are worn smooth from centuries of feet.
When it rains, the stone carries a faint scent of wet dust and limestone.
For a moment, it’s easy to imagine the air filled with oil lamps and incense, the same scents Romans would have smelled two thousand years ago.
Moving inside, I look up at the oculus.
Something strange happens when you stand inside the Pantheon during a rainstorm.
Rain falls directly into the cavernous interior.
High above, the center of the great dome opens to the sky. The circular opening — nearly thirty feet across — is called the oculus. It is the only source of direct light inside the Pantheon.
And it is completely open.
When it rains in Rome, the rain simply falls through the oculus.
Visitors often wonder: will the building flood?
It never does.
The Romans solved that problem almost two thousand years ago.
The marble floor is subtly sloped toward small drainage holes most visitors never notice. Water falling through the oculus flows slowly across…
