During the sermon, boredom often set in, particularly if the vicar droned on, and my eyes would roam. And if it was a sunny morning, they would latch onto a beam of light thrown by a window and I would watch it inch imperceptibly across the floor or wall. It was a game. I would try to remember where the light was, close my eyes for a while and open them again, and see how far the light had moved. Sometimes I would follow a blur of coloured light from a stained glass window, on other occasions the cross-hatched light from a clear window. I’ve always loved the play of light and shade and I still love churches.
Sadly in rural areas these days, most churches are locked – for fear of vandalism or theft. A sad reflection on the times we live through. In towns and cities, thankfully, most churches remain open and if I pass one I will venture in if time allows. They are places of quietness and peace. Each one is unique. I still love the sight of stained glass, the architecture, the ambience of churches. And often I am surprised by something. The greatest surprise was when I opened the door of St Pancras church in London and ‘I saw a great light‘. click the link to see what I saw.The two images today are from Chichester Cathedral (about an hour’s drive from where we live now). It was a sunny afternoon when we visited and light streamed through the windows.
Diffused coloured light spangled the columns, while up high in the nave, light through clear windows etched a pattern on a nearby wall. I was back in childhood watching light portray time.