Chapter Eighteen

She could see their destination before they even got near it. The great angel spire of the Peter and Paul Cathedral emerged from the landscape like a spear.  The golden angel gleamed in the sunlight as they approached the fortress.  It’s Petrine Baroque style was breathtaking as Zoey walked up to the cream colored stone walls. She should begin with taking pictures of the whole of the church, but she couldn’t keep herself from wanting to see it up close, to feel the stone under her fingers, stone that held many years of memories of good times and bad.  There were other churches in St. Petersburg that she hoped to visit, but this one would be the one she would use for the book. This was St. Petersburg, this fortress, this Cathedral, this angel holding the cross, the final resting place for the great rulers of Russia. This was what the rest of the world saw when they thought of St. Petersburg. 

Zoey began to take pictures from different angles.  She was particularly fond of capturing the face of buildings from close up, with her camera angle toward the sky.  She was able to manage a beautiful shot of the golden spire and angel against the blue of the open sky. She busied herself with her work, periodically stopping to touch a part of the building, the wall or a column.  She had nearly lost herself in her work until she noticed him watching her with a smile.

“What?”

“You touch everything. Do you always touch?”

She was surprised by his question, but since there was a note of humor in his voice, she did not think that touching was disrespectful. 

“I guess I do. I like to feel it. The roughness of the stone feels strong, like it will hold up to any foe. The smoothness of the columns makes me think of easier times, of beauty and culture. Buildings always have a story to tell,” she felt her face flush.

“You are…” he paused, “very romantic,” he said finally and brushed a stand of hair from her face back behind her ear.  She began to get that excited feeling in the pit of her stomach again.

“How do you know what kind of picture to take?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said stepping back from him slightly, trying to remove herself from his magnetic field.  “I just see it. I think, ‘oh that would be beautiful’. Some of the time, it is. Lots of times, I can’t get the camera to take the picture that I see in my mind. Then I take lots of pictures and hope that there is one that is just as good.”

“It’s gift then, to see?” he asked intrigued.

“You mean to see what pictures I want?  I guess it is. I don’t know if it is something one can teach to someone else. It just happens for me.”

He smiled at her, “like shooting puck, just happens. I practice all the time, but sometimes, it just happens. Sometimes, even I am surprised.”

She returned his grin and forced herself back to her work.  She finished taking the angles that she wanted and started to pack up.

“Time to go inside?” he asked.

“Can I take pictures inside?” she asked excitedly.  Some of the places she had been to did not allow photography inside. She was terribly disappointing in one instance.

“Yes, I think so.”

He held his large hand out for her. She placed her small one in his. He led her inside.

It was an amazing sight.  She was stuck by the golden iconostasis above Holy Doors at the dome of the bell tower that rose like a tower themselves.  It was very opulent inside and terribly beautiful.  The noble rulers of Russia sat entombed before her. The sacred marble tombs were encircled by a metal fence, to keep people from touching them.    She was overwhelmed with a feeling of such history.  The mosaics on the ceiling and the stain glassed windows were exceptionally beautiful and she found herself wondering what it would be like to experience a service here.  The bell tower held fifty-one bells.  What a massive sound must be capable with such a carillon, she thought.

“Are you going to take pictures?” Alex asked her.

She had been so taken in by what she was seeing that she had not even lifted her camera.  She proceeded to click away and after a few minutes, she took his outstretched hand again.

“Done?” he asked and she nodded looking up into his eyes. “Good. There is something I want you to see.”