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From the chapel roof, the cross points toward the heart of the lake, where mist and mountains dissolve into one another. The stone shingles hold centuries of weather, faith, and silence. Below, the water moves slowly—ancient, patient—while light filters through the clouds like a quiet benediction.
From the chapel roof, the cross points toward the heart of the lake, where mist and mountains dissolve into one another. The stone shingles hold centuries of weather, faith, and silence. Below, the water moves slowly—ancient, patient—while light filters through the clouds like a quiet benediction.