The sun glows on the mountain tops, the evening breeze rises, everywhere there is life and movement; strange voices whisper through the
trees and shrubs, swelling like the sound of chant and organ as they reach liS from afar; solemn figures in broadly-folded robes walk silently through the embowered garden, their pious gaze fixed on the heavens: have the figures of the saints come to life and descended from their lofty cornices?
Kittler-Friedrich-Optical-Media-pdf
