I woke at sunrise to find translucent clouds of puffy air drifting over steel blue water before vanishing in the rising light. On the days when I find mist floating above the reservoir behind our home I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Moments of beauty are such a delight.
All year long I do my best to find these moments wherever I can. A sun-drenched goldfinch trading seed with a friend at the feeder. A Great Blue Heron gliding on the wind, her long, graceful wings effortlessly moving air. An autumn leaf aflame in its ending, lying still against the black tar-covered road.
And of course, the beauty of cat life. The spontaneous vertical hops that defy gravity. The tumbling ball of orange and black fur wrestling just for fun. The rumble of purrs against my chest while I write, signaling the end of a long play session.
Now in my wisdom years, faced with the challenges of a dramatically changing world, I choose to be a curator of beauty – someone who shares the light when things can seem so dark.
Beauty is a force. A painted sky at sunset can stop a crowd in its tracks. The crashing waves of a wild storm will do the same. The first smile of a newborn who looks like an old soul in a new body will have everyone in the room – regardless of their beliefs or affiliations, cooing in unified delight.
Yes, beauty unites.
Some days it feels as though we’re at a tipping point. And we may be. But if we lean towards beauty, towards healing and light, we’ll head in the right direction together.