There’s beauty in this world, if we choose to see it. It surrounds us, sneaks up on us like a stalking mugger, jumps out at us from behind buildings, lurks around corners.
This morning, as I exited Union Station, the sky took my breath away. The Capitol dome loomed a few blocks away, framed by a sky that displayed all the colors of a Crayola box. Not the cheap little 8 crayon box that I had as a kid, either, but the one that the kids from wealthy families had, with 64 colors and a built-in sharpener in the back.
The Statue of Freedom, all 19 feet 6 inches of her, stood proudly against a backdrop of swirled fluffy Crayola-colored clouds. Periwinkle, cornflower, cerulean, indigo. Evocative names floating overhead in swirled brushstrokes on a colossal canvas.
I stood for a moment and just pondered the beauty above me. Standing on the concrete detritus of an ugly city, I was surrounded by the beauty of nature framing the best of man’s creation. The gleaming white elegance of the Capitol dome adorned by a 20 foot female monument to freedom against the most beautiful morning sky nature could create. Morning in an America besieged by philistines.
Yes, there is beauty in this world, if we choose to see it. Beauty that is untouchable by the hands of despots.