The mystery of Easter, that of death and resurrection, of absence and emergence, finds an echo in this diffuse, uncertain light, in these ghostly forms, in these suspended moments. Fog, like faith, does not show, it suggests! It forces us to move forward in uncertainty, to believe in what we can guess. Between the visible and the invisible. Between here and the hereafter. Two languages to speak of the same mystery. The Passion, in this muffled theater, is not shouted, it is guessed. Faith and fog have this in common: they veil as much as they reveal. They force us to see differently, to re
