Aug 11

In the eye of the beholder?

DSC00950We live at 10,300 feet. The snowy peaks of the Rockies are in our backyard, our front yard is filled with jagged mountains so high they seem to touch the throne of God himself. It’s not unlikely to spot a bear or an elk, and foxes romp in the meadow every morning and every evening. We have warm afternoons and cool mornings and evenings. The crunch of pine needles are under our feet and the smell of cool, clean earth is all around.

I love where I call home and, to me, it is the most beautiful place on earth.

Last week we drove through Kansas, the landscape stretching out like a giant blanket with no wrinkles or bumps–starched to perfection. So different from our crumpled up mountains. We kept going until we got to Oklahoma, tornado country, flat as a pancake griddle and just as hot.

Kansas is not for me, nor is Oklahoma.

But I can see their wide-open beauty. Gasp at the sight of fields filled with sunflowers, soft wheat blowing with the wind, lightening streaking across a never-ending black sky. A wildness all its own.

There are different kinds of beauty all around us if we choose to see…really see and look and pay attention.  And I think those people who are truly happy, who fully embrace life, and who seem to have it all, are really those that really see beauty all around them.

And specifically for writers, that is our job. To find beauty in those hidden places of life, of love, of pain, of joy, and of sadness and reveal it to a world that, in a lot of ways, has lost its hope

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