I’m fairly sure I would have made a good editor. I look closely and I pay attention. This has served me well as a friend, a parent, and a teacher, but it also has its drawbacks. It’s easy for me to spot mistakes. I notice the overgrown gardens and the discarded trash. I pay attention to whether drivers make a full stop at the red sign, and whether pet parents pick up their pet’s poop.
I see the broken asphalt and the pot holes that dot our street. But, I also see the robin bathing in the water that gathers there after a spring rain. I see the trees once adorned in pink and white flowers now covered in green leaves. Interestingly, what I think of as beauty is often situated next to what might be regarded as decay.
It is particularly evident in the crab apple tree where some of the flowers cling to the branches while others leave gaps in the empty spaces directly next to where they once were. On the ground below the blossoms sprinkle the broken sidewalk with glitter as the tree prepares to produce fruit. It reminds me of Oz.
Many mornings I stopped at this bulb garden, admiring the tulips and daffodils. But what do I see when I look at what remains after the performance?
I ask myself if I can still observe its beauty,
It’s easy to be excited about the primrose. But can I also be excited about the daffodil, past its prime, as some would say?
There is focus on seeing the good, the lovely, the significant. But at what cost? I can’t train my eye not to see what’s broken, discarded, and dismissed. But, I can decide to see the beauty in it.
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