The quote, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” actually is a paraphrase from a lengthy symposium given by the Greek philosopher Plato sometime in the 400s BC. Sprinkled with whithers and thous, he evidently was making the point, depending on how you look at something or someone and who is doing the looking, translates the depth of beauty. Without stocked shelves of products in the cosmetic aisles back then, I would imagine they would have had to squint real hard to consider some of the people lovely.

Beauty is subjective, that’s for sure, whether we’re talking about people, art, or music. How boring would it be if everyone saw beauty in the same way? That’s why some feel nothing is more beautiful than Mozart’s Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major while others consider In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida by Iron Butterfly the most brilliant thing ever written.

I think there are most likely fewer debates about beauty when we’re talking nature. God outdoes himself over and over. Just when I think there’s nothing more beautiful, something new shows up. Fall is possibly one of the most stunning times of the year. I say that now and when I wake up to the first snow, I’ll say that about winter.

The wonderful thing about beauty in nature is you’ll never hear anyone say something like, “Oh, she was so stunning until she opened her mouth.” Mountains don’t brag, streams aren’t devious and fields always keep their promises. I think that’s why our mom’s sent us out to play. We settle down when we go outside.

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