Yesterday we went by train to Chartres. Walking from the Gare, we used the cathedral as a compass (as generations have, and will). The windows are overwhelming. My little photograph shows nothing of the intensity of blue, of red, and the incandescent yellows. 800 years old, the windows glow with the light they have always held as sacred. This morning, listening to men on scaffolding in the tiny Rue au maire, I am still seeing the Blue Virgin Window on the south wall, just a little way from the South Rose Window, and my eyes are still dazzled with colour.
...Theresa Kishkan 