A Ruined Abbey at Dusk

The abbey lost its roof to a king’s decree and gained, in exchange, the finest ceiling in England: an open sky that changes with every hour.

What remains

The nave still stands in fragments — pointed arches marching toward an altar that is now only grass. At dusk the west window, empty of glass, becomes a frame for the last orange light.

I walked the cloister twice, once for the architecture and once for the swallows, who clearly consider the whole thing theirs.