Altar in the Chapel

A narrow lancet window cuts into the west wall high above the low stone platform of the altar. The embrasure frames a blurred rectangle of afternoon light, weak but angular, falling across the worn edges of the stone cross embedded there. The crude X marking the opening’s edge—scratched in centuries of dust—catches the light unevenly, making the symbol seem to tremble against the dark stone. Below, the air is still thick with incense and candle wax, the stained glass—orange and deep blue—casting colored rectangles on the altar’s top. The atmosphere is one of quiet watchfulness, the space feeling smaller than its height suggests, as if the window were meant to let in secrets more than air.