The first thing I see is my hat. There it sits, more than slightly beaten up, but still showing off it's pretty curves. Hats are fun to wear, and I always fancy that they make me look better, if for no other reason than that they flatten my unruly hair. This hat makes me happy, and it looks beautiful to me.
Then I glance around my desk and see a big mess. But then I notice the library books we picked up on this morning's outing. The art on the cover. The carefully chosen typography. The thick creamy paper packed with delicious words. The story inside that a writer pored over, perfecting every moment. The fact that the library lets me borrow these books for nothing more than a promise to return them. That's a beautiful thing.
My bucket of art supplies catches my eye next. All the colors and textures waiting for a creation. There is nothing more beautiful than art supplies clustered together, eager and waiting.
Leaning against the wall is a mermaid wall canvas that my daughter has outgrown, or so she says. But I haven't. It is a collage, and I see it's layers of carefully cut papers, shaped so precisely, and glued so meticulously onto layer after layer to make this pretty girl. It makes me smile. I've got to find a new home for this.
And on the floor by my feet, an Amazon delivery. Not beautiful, really, except in it's efficiency. I hit "buy now" on a whim the night before last, and, voila, here it sits today, ready for me. The number of people involved in the process that must be behind making this happen boggles my mind. Oh how I love the instant gratification of Amazon Prime. It's a beautiful thing.
Tara is right, it did give me a little lift to spend a few minutes looking for the beautiful things right under my nose, and to really notice them.
What beautiful things are sitting right under your nose, waiting for you to notice them?