This Palace of Dim Light

And so to the interior of Tewkesbury Abbey. For a change, and in a spirit of generosity, I actually bought a photographic permit at cost of £2. It saved me being castigated by the church wardens and meant I wouldn't have to run and hide if my flash went off accidentally. I never use the flash but the Canon Ixus 50 doesn't seem to allow me to switch it off permanently and I keep forgetting - Peter has suggested masking it with a bit of tape. I might get round to that one day, if I can be bothered to.

There is a misquotation from Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet' which suits both the lighting ethos I developed early in my career and the abbey - 'This Palace of Dim Light'; it also fits nearly every Italian church and many French ones I've been in. Tewkesbury is Norman, small windows and heavy stained glass. How we photographers yearn for the expansively lit splendour of Northern Gothic!

The organ started life in the seventeenth century - what attracted me was the 'splash of red' on the ceiling and the juxtaposition of the cool and warm tones. This also applies to the close-up image of the pipes and that of the tiled floor.

I went back inside when the sun came out in the afternoon but it had made little difference to the interior and its air of mystery. Now that so many of us no longer have the need for the crutch of religion and have cast off its oppressive yoke, are we still capable of building edifices like Tewkesbury Abbey? Can we still strive for that manifestation of perfection, glory and wonder that our ancestors did? And if we can, will our creation still be standing, essentially intact, in one thousand years time?