The Berlin Cathedral stands with a kind of solemn grace, its green dome glowing softly under the daylight during summer. As you walk toward it across Museum Island, it draws you in slowly not with grandeur, but with presence. The carved stone, the statues, the wide steps leading up all whisper of a city that has endured, and still sings. ๐๐ฟ๐ธ
Inside, your footsteps echo against marble and gold. The ceiling stretches impossibly high, with soft light filtering through stained glass. We sat for a while in the pews, letting the stillness settle. A quiet choir began to practice their voices floating up into the dome, layering over history, grief, and beauty. It felt deeply human, deeply sacred. ๐ถ๐ฏ๏ธ๐
Climbing to the top was worth every step. From the dome walkway, Berlin opens up in all direction, the Spree below, columns of the Altes Museum across, and the hum of the city all around. The wind carried church bells in the distance. It wasnโt just a view, it was perspective, weight, and wonder all at once ๐๏ธ๐ญโช
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