Beauty in small things [no. 5]
Beauty in small things [no. 5]
Christmas ballet, autumn's patchwork beauty, & empty flower beds
This week I was pondering on the beauty I’ve been observing on my walks this season, and I realized that the greatest art isn’t found in a museum in Paris and doesn’t sell for millions of dollars. It is free. It is as simple as walking outside to gaze at the sun rising gently beneath wisps of lavender cloud. The trick is not to miss it. Sometimes I see a stunning sunrise and then moments later, it’s gone. To see the beauty all around us, we must pay attention.
The most precious things are near at hand, without money and without price. Each of you has the whole wealth of the universe at your very door. So, on a large scale, the student and lover of nature has the advantage over people who gad up and down the world seeking novelty or excitement: he has only to stay at home and see the procession pass. The great globe swings around to him like a revolving showcase; the change of the seasons is like the passage of strange and new countries; the zones of the earth, with all their beauties and marvels, pass one’s door and linger long in the passing.
-John Burroughs
In our house, we wait until after Thanksgiving to start dipping into the truly great music of the Christmas season, and this week, we started with Tchaikovsky. The Nutcracker is full of gorgeous and memorable melodies, but the Pas de Deux is my favorite. I love the simplicity of the descending scale that makes up the main element of the melody. Truly transportive!
One reason why autumn is such a beloved season is because there is a novel scene to enjoy with each new morning. Monotony is not the flaw of autumn! Every day on our walks, the colors of the landscape have changed. Yesterday it was a patchwork quilt of flaming reds, burgundy, vermilion, scarlet, gold, emerald and yellow, all set against a clear blue background. Today, the trees’ colors will have shifted slightly: perhaps a darker red than yesterday, with a few more laying in fragile silken layers on the ground.
My cosmos froze overnight yesterday, which made me sadder than I expected. This was my last garden-grown bouquet, with carrot tops as a stunning backdrop for the flowers. I had never considered carrot tops in a flower arrangement until my husband suggested it. Brilliant!
The silver lining of losing my flower garden overnight was watching my three sons through the bay window, happily digging away in the empty garden bed my flowers had occupied for the past six months. I had no idea they had been patiently waiting for the flowers to be ripped out so they could dig The Deepest Hole Possible. My daughters were less excited about the loss of the flowers. It made me laugh to see how differently they responded.
I do miss my swaying colorful flowers that I once glimpsed every time I looked out the back window. The barrenness of winter is becoming much more apparent now that their cheerful faces have been replaced with deep brown soil.
What is something you have noticed recently that struck you as beautiful?