The Road to Damascus?
possibly enchanted moments in Lugo Cathedral
The late morning light inside Lugo cathedral was wonderful. The bright yellow sun burst in through the windows in the clerestory and reflected off the grey granite and the blue, painted ceiling of the nave. Unwittingly I’d wandered in just moments before a mass was due to start in one of the chapels that make up the ambulatory and about fifteen grey-haired ladies were already inside the chapel waiting for the service to start. Some were sitting, and just a few were standing, but together they loosely formed rows with an empty space down the middle for people to pass from the entrance to the alter.
Outside the chapel there were a few frail looking ladies bent-double, hobbling and rocking on their feet. Each had one arm wrapped, for support, around the arm of younger grey-haired women. Not wanting to appear part of the congregation nor too nosey, I slipped past them around the curve of the ambulatory and stood and watched from the junction of the aisle and the nave. Just then the priest appeared and with gentle touches that they seemed to relish he shepherded the last of congregation into the few gaps left in the chapel. and as he walked to the alter the crowd folded around him. I turned my head to give them some privacy and was wowed by the view you see above.
Not for the first time I was jealous of Faith, How I sometimes long for belief in something rather than acceptance of the banality of evil and the spiteful nature of humans. I yearn for something to believe in that can’t be swayed and skewed by more information or at any time might be swallowed up by the silt of experience in the river of time.
That’s why I’ve given the photo the title of “The Road to Damascus?” on some photo sharing sites
It wasn’t until I got home and saw the photo on my computer screen that I noticed the figure of the man praying near the bottom of the photo.
Was he really there when I took the photo?
