transtrion

A spire rises from a field of structurally placed bricks, with the kind of colors that reminds you of sugar and candy. It’s the distinct colors of your childhood, combined with an age old quest for spiritual enlightenment and order. Even if this holy place had a slight godly feeling at first couldn’t I shake the feeling that we with this building had done Moscow. We hadn’t just been here and seen it, we’ve done the metropolitan, we could cross it off a checklist and head for new places. It was time to leave the Cathedral of St. Basil and head for the train.

//Nisse