Has beauty always been this simple? This rich? Maybe it’s the extra moments I’m afforded that allow it to saturate a wider swath of my soul. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I’ve inched my way into the third stage of life, where time matters far less and somehow much more.

Everything matters more today. As I settle into my new norm, I’m drawn back to the sweet salve of Utah’s expansive canyons a few weeks ago. A five-state road trip brought me face to face with a beautiful natural canvas whose colors can only be experienced. A serenity that compelled me to take one more glance, whispering goodbye to the craggy cliffs, knowing I’d only sampled a fraction of the wonder.

I’m sure my experience was heightened by the concurrent reading of The Overstory, a lengthy tale of environmental fragility brought about by humans eager to control all that is not ours. Richard Powers weaves a dozen stories into a compelling argument for connectivity between all life forms. I somehow matured alongside his towering redwoods as they awaited manmade destruction. And I planned our next road trip to see them once more before their caretakers sell them short through mismanagement or misfortune.

The irony of Covid 19, a novel virus, sending us into a global tailspin is not lost on me, as we began our trip home amidst an alarming backdrop of panic and uncertainty. The rich colors faded into somber tones as I learned I’d not be seeing my family for an undetermined timeframe.

I was privileged to wait out the viral storm in another beautiful setting. Where self-isolation is often a naturally occurring status. Even the rising water practiced safe social distancing, allaying flooding fears. Perhaps the earth knows how far to push its inhabitants. Perhaps it’s reminding us that we need each other. Redbuds blooming, crocuses popping, and the dandelions beginning their aggressive re-entry, claiming a key spot for the local ecosystem to flourish.

All of these places were dancing with beauty long before a global virus multiplied. And yet now these same spaces seem to be calling out their critical status. “Hey, notice me. Remember my form and color and beauty while we’re both alive and well!”

I’ll do that today. I’ll summon the ancient layers of Zion and Bryce and Red Canyon, each formation hosting an exclusive array of colors. The massive, unpredictable Rocky Mountain passes. The snow-covered Turquoise Lake of Leadville, where we carved snowshoe paths along an unidentifiable shoreline. Even the built environment of historic towns along our route offered reminders of beauty and regeneration. Communities like Golden, Grand Junction, Cedar City, and Kayenta, repurposing and sustaining our spaces through thoughtfully crafted preservation.

Then I’ll FaceTime my family and schedule another virtual happy hour with friends. Wishing you safety, wellbeing, and love as you discover beauty in the darkness and light.

The Nature of Beauty