Play of light

Cath├ędrale Saint-Sacerdos de Sarlat

From his hiding place behind the curtain of the confessional he had a good view over most of the cathedral. The place was empty, as was normal on an early afternoon. It was harvest time and the town’s people were out in the fields gathering in the corn. The deep silence of the church was filled with a smell of incense and the faint crackle of burning bees wax candles. Most of the side chapel in which he was concealed was in shadow. Just a small patch of the shining wooden floor boards in front of the altar was lit by the light coming from one of the many stained glass windows above, casting brightly coloured patterns that continually moved and transformed. The display was fascinating. He’d never noticed it before despite the fact that he was a regular visitor to the cathedral. The silence was brutally broken by the crash of the main door of the cathedral being opened violently and the sound of hob-nailed boots on the stone floor as a band of armed men entered.

Emerging

Murky waters in the Hull Marina

What is this emerging from the waters next to the Hull Marina? Above all it is a call from the past, a memory of something long since forgotten, a connection broken off that is only visible when the tide is right. Visually, the gentle ripples it makes on the salt water and the mixtures of reds and greens of rust and erosion make it almost poetic when no doubt originally it was part of some ugly contraption …

Reflections

Holy Trinity church, Hull

Reflected in the gold-tainted glass of a prosaic office block, the distortion of the glass and the displacement due to a window slightly ajar makes the picture seem even more magic that it already it. Almost like an invitation to step into another world.

Young girl

Young girl

Since her mother died life had been plagued by a series of mishaps and lesser catastrophes. Not that she didn’t enjoy preparing the food for her uncle and cleaning his house, she prided herself on her ability to do the work well and efficiently, but conditions were hard and he was strict and unforgiving. On the rare occasions that she was left to herself with nothing to do, she ventured out onto the balcony, making sure that nobody caught her there, and stared down the narrow alley in the direction of the market place. Not that she could see that far, for the alley twisted and turned many times before it finally gave way to the bustle and the smells of the stands and their sellers. Her face reddened by much time spent near the open fireplace and her hands and clothes white with flour from baking tomorrow’s bread, she couldn’t help herself imagining that someone would come and carry her away to a better life …