SANCTITY

Anything seems possible in a place that turns harsh sunlight into a dazzling array of colors. The craftsmanship of the rosette windows and scenes always leave you in awe. You slowly progress forward, feet sinking somewhat into the heavy carpets that run down the central aisle of the wooden pews. Melodic chantings echo as the thurible chains clink, the wisps of smoke wafting up towards the rafters. The comfort of the incense-heavy air expands in your chest as you breathe in – the smoky sweetness of resin blends with the scent of the aged pews. Wax slowly streams from the mass of candelabras ahead, flames gently bobbing and flickering in intervals by an unfelt draft. Looking up, the cathedral stands tall and boasts intricate carvings of stone and wood, as if to evoke heaven on Earth. The faintest of pigeon coos sounding from above mingle with the whispers of prayer below in an otherwise quiet nave. 

You find a seat in one of the pews, the gentle creak of the wood magnified into an audible groan. Embarrassed, you look down at the red carpet. As if on cue, a gentle hum fills the dead air, followed by the reverberation of a precise choir harmony. You sink back into the pew and enjoy the synchronized beauty of their voices. Though a cavernous space, it feels hallowed; it feels safe. It is a place of sanctuary, to be alone yet not alone.