Every other year, for the past fourteen years, the cold stones of Chichester's 800-year-old cathedral come to life with a dazzling profusion of blooming colour: The Chichester Cathedral Flower Festival. Groups, guilds and individuals vie with one another to produce the most spectacular display, decking chapels, tombs and chantries with vivid bouquets and carefully planned arrangements. In the RAF chapel, for example, flowers are arranged to depict propeller blades, while in the newly refurbished St. John chapel, an artful pile of blossom-decked timbers depicts the collapse of the cathedral spire in 1861. Some exhibits (like the spire) reflect the history of the church, while others take on more spiritual themes, such as the bouquets symbolizing "repentance and forgiveness" at the pulpit. Still others honor the temporal sphere: In the Lady Chapel, bouquets represent different parts of the world, and (where possible) incorporate flowers from those regions. But most dramatic are the contrasts: The vivid hues of flowers against the natural tones of stone and wood; the juxtaposition of ephemeral blossoms that will fade within days against stones hewn centuries ago and that may stand for centuries to come. Yet even here it's difficult to say which is the most eternal: The hewn stones, which may in time collapse (like that unfortunate spire), or the flowers themselves, which, though short-lived, were blooming before the cathedral was built and will continue to bloom long after it is gone. What better way to express the mystery of rebirth and eternal life?