Sometimes, plans go haywire and the results are better than the plan. So it is today.
We were going to head out-of-town on a “mission” to increase our knowledge about an area. Various circumstances stepped in to, first, delay the trip then postpone it for a while. And the outcome was good.
Coincidentally, as I stepped out to the back patio just a few moments ago, I saw something that called for a camera, a way to capture beauty. I had just lit a piece of incense and sat on the soft cushion of the wrought iron chair when I saw it.
The sunset and the clouds and the egret flying gracefully overhead were in perfect proportion, perfectly aligned; it was beauty in a way that I can’t begin to describe. Instead of running inside to grab a camera in a vain attempt to capture a moment incapable of imprisonment, I ran inside and asked my wife to join me on the patio to see what I saw. She joined me. She saw the beauty a camera cannot. She was glad I asked her out.
She returned inside to do whatever it was that she had been doing. I stayed outdoors, marveling at the astonishing beauty of the sunset and the bird and the trees against that horizon and the smell of incense and the coolness of the light breeze that a camera cannot possibly capture.
These are the moments that cause people to believe in the supernatural; it may be hard to imagine that the real world is so immeasurably beautiful without the guiding hand of a magician. But that’s the way it is; the real world, in all its natural, evolving, unplanned glory, is enough to take your breath away. No supernatural intervention needed.