Thursday, January 15, 2009

Orbs . . . unanswered questions

I hadn’t intended to write to you again on the subject of orbs. To send you photos, yes. But to write? No.
What more can be said? They call for silent wonder, not for words. I’m also aware that I don’t want to argue about orbs. I’m not an evangelist. There are plenty of people, people whom I respect, who dismiss them as no more than the product of faulty cameras. There are others who say they are dust particles caught in the flashlight, or smudges on the lens. They may be right. I don’t think they’re right, but I’d be the last to deny them the right to their opinion.

Then all these good intentions were swept away just before Christmas when I went to a Christmas concert at The Grosvenor Chapel. Sally had invited me. Sally, who is also very taken with the orb photos, insisted that I took my camera.
“You never know,” she said hopefully, “there could be orbs.”

It was a wonderful and moving concert - a packed chapel, a fine choir, outstanding readers, an audience enraptured by it all. It had that elusive quality of innnocence and magic that somehow triumphs over jaded spirits. When it was over, and the audience was slowly departing, I took out my camera. But I didn't want to be conspicuous . We were surrounded by Sally's friends, I didn't want to disgrace her by taking what might seem inappropriate photos.
So . . . the first ones I took were taken discreetly from the side . . .

. . . as you can see, not a sign of orbs . . .

. . . I then moved a little closer to the front of the church, but remained under the overhang so there was no view upwards . . .

still no orbs . . .

I took three more photos from this same position, with exactly the same result.

But Sally wanted orbs, and I was determined that she should get them. Abandoning discretion (and I really don't think that anyone noticed what I was doing) I moved to the back of the church and turned the camera up towards the ceiling . . .

. . . and there they were . . .

. . . do you see them? I took three more photos and, in each of them, throngs of beautiful, translucent orbs soared above our heads.

From my experience, there seem to be three varieties. There are the substantial radiant orbs that often come singly. These are usually pale blue or green, sometimes with touches of pink, and, if you examine them under a magnifying glass, each one has an unique, geometrical pattern. Then there are the shooting orbs. These, again, come singly and are smaller, but very bright. You can tell they are moving swiftly because their bright light is repeated along the line of movement.
Finally, and most frequently, there are the beautiful, shadowy, translucent orbs. These frequently generate in clusters, attracted by music, worship or mass emotion.
At The Grosvenor Chapel it was the translucent orbs that held sway.

How can this be a faulty camera . . . or dust on the lens . . . or a trick of the light . . . ?

They're so beautiful . . . so awesome . .. I had to share them with you.

But why my camera . . . why me . . . ?
Why do the orbs seen to be proliferating . . . ?
Might a publisher like to have them for a book . . . or a calendar . . . ?
I only wish that I knew.
The one certainty? This is a fascinating subject!

A final question . . .
What about these incredible visitors, viewed from my window at sunrise, the week before Christmas . . . ?

(See London's Orbs, click here)