Early this morning, as I drove home from a local supermarket visit, I saw a middle-age woman inspecting and removing wildflowers from a patch of greenery beside a lengthy parking lot and train tracks.
Blacktop versus green grass; rusty train tracks near colorful flowers of beauty. Talk about contrasts. Come to think about it, that contrast itself adds to the viewed aesthetics. The difference makes the nature seem more lovely. As I continued driving, leaving the scene in rear and sideview mirror, I contemplated the reason the woman was selecting and picking the flowers. Maybe to place on a windowsill in a cup of water at her home, or to attempt to replant them perhaps in her home garden, beauty transferred from here to there? It also got me to thinking about how often I, when I need a break from my writing desk, exit my house and inspect the few bushes and growing trees along our fence, and the crepe myrtles that reside in the middle of the yard. Growth of different colors often appear next to leaves, protruding from the branches. I don't understand any of it, and I don't pretend to. Seeing the growth moving while being tossed by a soft breeze, maybe a bumble bee or butterfly feeding off a bud or full flower, is for me eye candy and restful. It is a continuation of my early morning prayers and scripture. Both allow me to step outside of myself to another realm, one where my cares disappear, even if just for a few moments, whether in bright sunshine or during a rain shower. Yes, there's peace there, too. I begin a project this week, and I've hired me. A book of reflection about spirit and nature in my tiny world, and what both together mean to my life. Steve
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Steve Sears is a New Jersey based freelance writer
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