I have seen beauty

in the robin’s egg blue sky; a backdrop to the cheesecloth white clouds

an overlay, of sorts.

I have seen beauty in the wildflowers standing proudly by the creek bank;  tall spikes of white camomile  and the purple cones of fireweed that I gather to accent now empty rooms.Some may call these weeds as though a technicality should diminish their worth.

I have seen beauty in the dimples of my grand daughters cheeks, her chubby claps and the azure blue eyes of her father.

I have heard beauty in the noisy chatter of squirrels as they forage for their meal, the birdsong that lives in the overgrown and yet lush backyard.

I have smelled beauty in  freshly laundered T-shirts that I hang to dry in the prairie wind, and the fresh taste of sweet strawberries picked off the vine.

I have seen beauty in the bittersweet faces in my father’s class photo from decades past, children posing silently, hopeful for lives of promise and adventure.

Beauty lies in the rhythm of the dishwasher, long ago comfort in the drumming that matched the beat of my teenage heart and the absolute knowledge that I was safe and happy in my bed,listening to the sounds of a predictable but secure family.

I have seen beauty in the chocolate arms of my daughter as she silently dries the dishes and in the songs of the piano as my son artfully plays a haunting melody.

I have seen beauty in the gray of my husband’s hair and the wrinkled lines of a life of hard work, never doubting that he is the rock of a large and diverse family.

I have seen the beauty in the water as it ripples out from stones cast as we stand on shore, contemplating how well our lives parallel the effect of our actions.

I have lived beauty in the knowledge that I am a fortunate sailor on the seas of a life well lived and if I die tomorrow

I have seen beauty.