The Easiest Thing
Before climbing the hill that takes you up to Libby Hill Park, I just had a sense of what was coming. Daffodils had already blossomed, and that day they simply looked like mad stars scattered all around, while a crisp breeze, blowing from the East, was shaking their little, yellow heads in a rolling motion that gave me vertigo. I walked until I saw the sun flowing into an open field, and there I sat. In total peace.
Peace. What a beautiful thing. What a lovely word. I guess, peace is much easier to accept in our life than we think. We just have to let go. Let go of negative thoughts, let go of toxic relationships, and let go of what is not good or right for ourselves and those around us. Anyway…
From that spot in the park, I overlooked the James River rushing southward and the roaring city of Richmond. It really was a nice scene. I have to say, I've been growing fond of this place more and more each day. The industrial look, adorned by the russet color of colonial houses and by the sleek facade of historic buildings, lately has shown off some of its charm. Something I've been seeking for 6 months.
It is a bit superficial to think that there's nothing more stunning than seeing the blue carpet called Pacific Ocean extending wide in front of you, while standing on golden cliffs that twist along the hilly coast of California. Yes, that is an obvious thought to have. And yes, that was me a couple of months ago. So while it's true that beauty is simple to understand and doesn't demand you to look too far or too deep, she still needs you to be actively perceptive.
So there is beauty even in the slate-colored smokestacks of abandoned factories that take over the horizon in the south side of Richmond. Or in the twisting railroads and the rusty trains that slide on them like a leaf carried by a weak wind. Or, even better, in a young woman jotting down what will be her sweetest poem in a boho cafe in downtown.
So I looked down the hill one more time to catch the true beauty of this place that grows thick like long-leaf pine forests, and glancing east, where a chill wind had kept blowing all along, my long-held, rebellious desire to be rootless suddenly shrunk a little.
Heading back, the white moon looked so chalky in the clear sky, reminding me of the tail of a long-gone cloud. So lonely in that turquoise and starless puddle, our satellite looked even better above the red-colored bricks of colonial houses. I found my love for life once again so deeply intertwined with everything that my eyes can lay on.
Beauty is really the easiest thing!
