Beauty in small things [no. 3]

On private suffering & a moody autumn song

I’m currently reading Elizabeth Gaskell’s first novel, Mary Barton, and this passage on how none of us truly know the private joys or sorrows of strangers we pass every day struck me as both true and profound. How differently would we treat each other if we realized all the suffering that we each quietly endure?

He thought they all looked joyous, and he was angry with them. But he could not, you cannot, read the lot of those who daily pass you by in the street. How do you know the wild romances of their lives; the trials, the temptations they are even now enduring, resisting, sinking under? You may be elbowed one instant by the girl desperate in her abandonment, laughing in mad merriment with her outward gesture, while her soul is longing for the rest of the dead, and bringing itself to think of the cold-flowing river as the only mercy of God remaining to her here. You may pass the criminal, meditating crimes at which you will tomorrow shudder with horror as you read them. Errands of mercy–errands of sin–did you ever think where all the thousands of people you daily meet are bound?

-Elizabeth Gaskell, “Mary Barton”

The melancholy mood this piece (Sicilienne for cello and piano, Op. 78) evokes is perfect for the transition to colder autumn weather (which we here in Texas are actually getting some of this week!). Gabriel Fauré wrote this piece in 1898, but the sound is so modern to me. This song would be the perfect accompaniment for a walk on a misty, chilly autumn morning. If life had a soundtrack of great music, this would definitely be on my list.

The Bouquet of Margueritas, Millet (1866)

This painting by Millet is so unlike his more famous works: it feels much lighter and more playful than the somber working peasant motif he is well known for. This girl’s subtle smile reminds me a bit of the Mona Lisa. In fact, her mischievous face reminds me of my ten-year-old daughter, about to burst into laughter over some joke or prank. Children, at their core, are always better at noticing the beauty around them than we are as adults. They have no worries, no pretensions. They are such a gift.

We had an unusually early freeze last night, so I quickly harvested all of my lettuces (except the kale—apparently it can handle freezing temperatures?) and now I need to start making multiple salads a day. Or host a salad party. There is a lot. I’m hoping that once the weather is back in the 70s next week the lettuce will start to grow back. We shall see! I am a novice gardener, so the fact that I have anything to harvest still feels like something of a miracle to me. I’ve learned that lettuce & spinach are two of the very easiest things to grow from seed, so if you have wanted to start a garden but felt unsure, start with lettuce. It is so satisfying to clip a bowlful of greens for a dinner salad minutes before we eat it.

What small beautiful things have you noticed in your life this week?