Annunciation

In class this week, the professor said a scene from the novel we're reading was an annunciation. I pictured a medieval painting, the rich oil pigments darkened from the smoke of candles burning. I pictured the painting hanging on the wall of a great cathedral,  cold stone and buttresses, echoes of chant and plainsong.

Today is the feast of the annunciation, the day when the Virgin Mary learned she was bearing the son of God via a message from the angel Gabriel. 

I see a painting again, Gabriel in rich reds, his white wings shining. I see Mary's head inclined toward the light, gold halo above her head. 

Annunciation: an announcement, a message, a few words that can change your life. 

(The Annunciation depicted in a 15th century tapestry. Photo courtesy the Art Institute of Chicago.)