Thinking about beauty, and appreciating it
Beauty can be found in a walk in the woods, like the Massapequa Preserve, above, on Tuesday afternoon. Credit: Newsday/Alejandra Villa Loarca
We were driving east on Sunrise Highway, heading toward daybreak. The sun was just beginning its ascent over the eastern tip of Long Island before its daily march west.
The sky stretched out before us in all its early morning glory. Wisps of pink clouds were wrapped like tendrils around long horizontal bands of violet and mauve, with the grayish blue of dawn as a backdrop. It made me realize that the purple mountain majesties of our Western ranges have nothing on the purple puffy majesties of our Eastern skies.
But within a few minutes, that gorgeous tableau of muted tones was gone.
That same day, late in the afternoon, we were at a playground with our granddaughter. The sky was its usual deep blue speckled with fluffy white clouds. Our granddaughter was on the swings looking skyward when she exclaimed, "A rainbow!" We were skeptical because it had not been raining, nor was any storm expected. But there it was, a small curved section of a rainbow silhouetted against the billowy white before it tapered off at both ends as though it was exhausted by its effort. The streaks of color were striking both for the contrast they provided and for their unlikely appearance.
But the rainbow vanished, too, within a couple minutes.
The twin visions left me thinking about the ephemerality of beauty, and whether our perception of it is influenced by how long the thing lasts. Is something that is more fleeting inherently more precious than something that sticks around a little longer?
Nothing is forever, it is said, and that can be true about beauty, too. The most beautiful paintings in the world age over time and lose some of their luster. Sculptures and buildings chip, crack and wear. Rock formations erode, break and fall. Forests burn and shorelines morph. People age, too.
But those inevitable ravages of time often succeed only in transforming one form of beauty into another. A devastating forest fire can create the conditions that lead to a lush meadow pulsing with new plants, birds and other wildlife. A series of trips over more than 50 years to the magnificently gnarled hoodoos of Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah reveal a landscape that is constantly evolving from its exposure to wind and rain and snow — different but beautiful every time.
Nor must people lose their beauty to time, which has no claim on someone's soul. The memory of beauty need not be ephemeral, and sometimes gets sharper and stronger as the years go by.
The poets have filled volumes with their observations about beauty. So have other writers and artists and singers and regular folks alike. Beauty is, of course, as we see it. What's important is that we do see it and recognize it and appreciate it. I know my consideration of beauty has changed. It's not that I didn't notice beautiful things before, it's that I'm allowing myself more time in the moment to appreciate what I'm seeing. Beauty isn't just something to note when we're looking for it.
Beauty can be found on a walk in the woods, when you emerge from a trail to find a lake ringed by Technicolor foliage, as you do on the path to Southards Pond in Babylon. Beauty can be found in a cluster of ornamental grass swaying gently in the autumn breeze all over Long Island. Beauty can be found in a leaf falling from a tree, or in the kindness of neighbors and strangers helping one another.
It's important to seize the moment when you can, enjoy the beauty that you see, and revel in its wonder.
At a time when there is so much ugly in the world, we do well when we hold on to beauty wherever and however we find it.
Columnist Michael Dobie is a retired member of the Newsday editorial board.
Michael Dobie is a retired member of the Newsday editorial board.
