Notre-Dame de Paris after rain

The summer afternoon. The rain has just ended and left the image of the Cathedral in a pool. We're here. It is over there, behind the surface of the water. Like in a childhood, like in a fairy tale, like in the distant past.

"The strongest impression of my early childhood ... an impression of which I still retain a vivid memory, was the emotion aroused in my young heart by the sight of a gothic cathedral... I was in an ecstasy, struck with wonder, unable to tear myself away from the attraction of the marvellous, from the magic of such splendour, such immensity, such intoxication expressed by this more divine than human work... How could I show my gratitude to those silent masterpieces, those masters without words and without voice? ... Without words and without voice? What am I saying! If those stone books have their sculptured letters—their phrases in bas-relief and their thoughts in pointed arches—nevertheless they speak also through the imperishable spirit which breathes from their pages".

Fulcanelli, "Le Mystère des Cathédrales".