The sun seeps through tinted glass and arcs downwards causing dust motes to dance in the air only to settle softly across the aisle infusing life and light to time-worn stones. A host of angels glides silently through the church. Barely perceptible, their robes sway to the strains of the choir. Borne by youthful voices, they scatter colour with every step. When the last boys’ voices rise and fall away, a faint whisper lingers in the air like the caress of a fleeting kiss, the breath of angels.
Click on the thumbnail to view a larger image.