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Description
Silence ruled the night, the moon motionless, looking upon the ruins of the old cathedral with its silvery face. Crumpled walls, jagged stones protuded from the ground, softened only by the patches of mist that loudlessly floated across the ground, revealing glimpses of the nocturnal ruins while at the same time covering what the eye could still make out a moment ago.

And still, the night was not as silent as it might have seemed before, for floating with the fog, haunting the jagged gravestones that had once been the proud walls reaching towards the heavens with the singleminded intention of praise, were sounds, as heartwrenching as they were lovely. Notes plucked from an invisible harp, an angelic voice whispering its song to the silent stones.

Every once in a while the mist would swirl up, deceptive thing that it was, its dance fooling the eye, beckoning the weary traveler closer with its visions, closer to that sad, alluring voice. Until they would stand eye to eye among the crumpled walls and towers. A moment drawn to eternity, the spiritual world in touch with reality....

Or maybe...

Just maybe....

... it was but a dream.

-------------------------------

Bleh. Ignore the crappy bit of incoherant typing that is my picture description. It's way too late to be submitting pictures to begin with.

Anyway. This is my entry to =windfalcon 's Galway contest, for which one had to draw the picture that came to your mind when reading the names of places in Ireland. Now I have no clue where or what in heaven or hell Gaeltacht is. For all I know it could be a public outhouse but that's way beside the point.

Right, so this is the result of 10+ hours listening to Gregorian while having way too many booklets about churches laying around. As always colored pencil on black cardstock.
And damn the scanner sooo butchered this.

Description
Silence ruled the night, the moon motionless, looking upon the ruins of the old cathedral with its silvery face. Crumpled walls, jagged stones protuded from the ground, softened only by the patches of mist that loudlessly floated across the ground, revealing glimpses of the nocturnal ruins while at the same time covering what the eye could still make out a moment ago.

And still, the night was not as silent as it might have seemed before, for floating with the fog, haunting the jagged gravestones that had once been the proud walls reaching towards the heavens with the singleminded intention of praise, were sounds, as heartwrenching as they were lovely. Notes plucked from an invisible harp, an angelic voice whispering its song to the silent stones.

Every once in a while the mist would swirl up, deceptive thing that it was, its dance fooling the eye, beckoning the weary traveler closer with its visions, closer to that sad, alluring voice. Until they would stand eye to eye among the crumpled walls and towers. A moment drawn to eternity, the spiritual world in touch with reality....

Or maybe...

Just maybe....

... it was but a dream.

-------------------------------

Bleh. Ignore the crappy bit of incoherant typing that is my picture description. It's way too late to be submitting pictures to begin with.

Anyway. This is my entry to =windfalcon 's Galway contest, for which one had to draw the picture that came to your mind when reading the names of places in Ireland. Now I have no clue where or what in heaven or hell Gaeltacht is. For all I know it could be a public outhouse but that's way beside the point.

Right, so this is the result of 10+ hours listening to Gregorian while having way too many booklets about churches laying around. As always colored pencil on black cardstock.
And damn the scanner sooo butchered this.