The other day I was sitting in my den; late afternoon. Glancing up from my reading, I noticed the late summer sun spotlighting a pitcher full of fresh flowers from the farmer's market on the table across the house in the dining room. So dramatic.
The irony was: I'm not a dramatic person. I like things soft, smooth, and gentle.
These harsh shadows, vivid contrasts between the light and the dark, and almost blinding highlights brought on by the low-angled sun were not at all my cup of tea.
Yet somehow, I was drawn to them. They bade me come closer... to notice the fine detail they skillfully lit on each delicate petal. To realize that MY preference...the type of beauty I am drawn to...is truly not the only thing that is labeled beautiful. There are so many different perspectives to be had.
Each one as beautiful and unique and inspiring as the next. And this day, I was so grateful for the reminder.
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