Something else that mesmerized me were the expressions on the faces of the pipers. Playing a bagpipe isn't exactly flattering. The exertion and concentration is obvious, and almost looks painful. I froze while strolling through the orchard with the camera, embarrassed to be a tourist and snap too many photos of something so sacred and, well, personal.
It will happen in a moment, in the blink of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, those who have died will be raised to live forever. And we who are living will also be transformed.