Looking nearby on the path
Going away, driving up the canyon to higher place- -as if all the beauty is somewhere else--I do that often. Oh I know there is beauty here, but I live on the flatland in northeast Boulder, not up against the Flatirons or foothills. Last Sunday grandson Sam and I looked for leaves of all colors on the path in the center of this complex. I left my phone inside so Sam wouldn't want to play an app, forgetting that I would be missing some great shots with the I-phone camera. On Monday I retraced our path, walked to the park across the street and down paths allow for a longer trek, looking for shades of red and orange, more likely here in Boulder than in the mountains.
I was reminded again that beauty abounds. I am grateful.
I'll be off on Monday to St. Benedict's Monastery in Old Snowmass near Aspen for an 8-day silent retreat so my next posting will undoubtedly be about more "falsities" that I'm shedding. Perhaps it will also include a dose of Divine Love.
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