Enduring Beauty

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  “Beauty is the quality which makes to endure. In a house that I know, I have noticed a block of spermaceti lying about closets and mantel-pieces, for twenty years together, simply because the tallow-man gave it the form of a rabbit; and, I suppose, it may continue to be lugged about unchanged for a century. Let an artist scrawl a few lines or figures on the back of a letter, and that scrap of paper is rescued from danger, is put in portfolio, is framed and glazed, and, in proportion to the beauty of the lines drawn, will be kept for centuries. Burns writes a copy of verses, and sends them to a newspaper, and the human race take charge of them that they shall not perish.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson. (1803–1882).   Essays and English Traits.

Up there

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A while back I was walking through the park, along the black metal fence that surrounds the lake. As I made the gradual curve, taking me back toward the cascades, I could not help but notice the string tied to the top of the handrail. The string went up, up, up into the sky. I followed the string with my eye to see the kite was on the other end.

Up, up, up, went the string, until it disappeared into the blue sky. I saw no kite.

It was almost as if someone tethered the sky to the handrail.

A cloud floated by. I stared into the sky.

I felt the string. Yup, definitely something there alright, I could feel the tug.

What do you think was up there?

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