Friday, October 25, 2019

The Illuminated Chapel :: Observation Essays, Descriptive Essays

When there is no sleep for the restless and the night hours become rivers of boredom that I begin to drown in, I feel my roommate stir with the same disease of unrest and we slowly put our shoes on. Already talking, we begin to drive for about two or three minutes toward a light in the dark hills. What we see has always drawn us, especially during the late hours. It’s the Milligan chapel that we see high on a hill thrust toward the heavens, beguiling us toward its soft glow. Turning up the winding campus, we finally stop at the parking center in front of this tall structure and start to walk toward its granite steps. I look up at the building, tilting my neck toward the steep spire christened with a metal cross at the very top. A sense of awe and respect surround me as I look on captivated for an instant, unsure whether the size or the skill put into its creation that makes me feel the way I do. On this hill my roommate and I spend many hours gazing and talking about our problems. With a cigarette in hand we lay our jackets down behind our head on the sidewalk in front the chapel and stare into space to see what we can see. Sometimes in a conversation we both stop midway through because we see a shooting star light up the damp night air, if only for a second. The shooting star looks like a bright line drawn by some invisible hand in the sky. We think since we are in front of the chapel speaking of everything and anything, maybe that is God’s way of saying to switch to another conversational subject. So we do. Sooner or later, however, we sit up and stare at the illuminated church thinking of unanswerable questions. Sitting there I can see every little detail on the steeple. At first I pay no attention to the structure around the bells in the steeple, but later I notice that those are actually hand carved designs. These designs are remarkable when on later inspection I notice the intricacies of the carvings that wrap and merge with each other under the bells. The bells are gleaming with rays of illumination set of by the interior lights of the church letting me see a vast display of colors that glint off the bell’s smooth surface.

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