Emerald Bay Photo News and Updates

As a kid, I spent many Sunday mornings staring at the beautiful colored-glass windows and the lofty rib vaulting of the ancient Roman Catholic church in the small town in Switzerland where I grew up.

Never mind that I wasn't a catholic. But I volunteered to go to church with my catholic friends, just so that I could sit and examine the tall gothic windows, detailed painted ceilings, and intricate wooden carvings at my leisure during mass. My protestant parents didn't mind.

And it was here that I fell in love with architecture, probably without even fully realizing it. To this day, I relish the quiet, almost magical quality of a church - the creaking of those old wooden benches, the hushed voices, the distinct smell of old, musty stone.

There's also something awe-inspiring and symbolic about the art and architecture of a church, especially an ancient European one. But I've learnt to appreciate a religious painting or sculpture for the pure artistic value of it, without letting its subject matter affect me.

So on my recent trip to Vienna I stopped off at one of the city's most commanding sights - the St. Stephan's Cathedral. The weather was dull and grey outside, so the church's interior seemed darker and gloomier than I'm sure it would have been usually.

Yet when a sudden sun burst briefly lit up the windows, the effect was wonderous: