Taking in the Beauty

It was almost evening and the fog hadn’t lifted yet.

I came down the hill and turned left towards the post office, market, restaurant.

On the other side of the restaurant, there is a view of the harbor. Sometimes I look. Most times, I don’t.

I walked over the wet pavement, hands in my pockets, head down. Past the post office, the market, then the restaurant.

And when I got to the other side of the restaurant, light caught my eye. I turned to look. And there, over the harbor, the fog was lifting as the sun was setting.

Nice, I thought. Then I turned back to my walk.

Which didn’t last long. Because some part of me knew: That’s not nice. That’s beauty. Right here in front of you and you didn’t have to do anything for it. Can you risk pausing to appreciate it?

I turned back to the harbor. It was glowing. There was light, mist, and the fragile grace of a moment that wouldn’t last long; evening was too close.

I stood watching. It was a kind of savoring I hadn’t done in a while. And when I finally turned away, I knew that it must be good for the soul to make time to take in beauty.

The Lightning Notes is funded by kind donors. If something here strikes you, I’d be grateful if you’d consider donating. Click to Donate!