This morning, instead of meditating after my morning coffee, I decided to go back to bed -- which means that by the time I awoke and came to my computer I was somewhat distanced from my morning reading, so not determined to share any particular wise thoughts.
I decided to revert to my old practice of letting the images sing to me, and this is what emerged -- a photo I took yesterday morning of the last little pats of butter in a dish, waiting to be spread on a piece of toast. But don't they look a bit like sailboats in a race -- and one a little tipsy?
So I added a couple of layers of water scenes and -- presto chango! (and does anyone remember where that phrase comes from?) we have a sweet little picture of sailboat races.
I know; it's not a great work of art -- but it does have its charm, especially if you know its secret. And if you think about it, isn't it that sense of familiarity, of knowing, that gives charm to our loved ones, and to our hometowns? My husband may not be Hugh Jackman, but I found myself smiling as I looked at his beloved face over dinner last night at our local pub.
Our waitress may not have been beautiful, but she's been working there as long as we've been coming there, and I love to see her freckles and her deliciously curly hair. The hollyhocks just beyond the window of our booth may not have been perfect, but their exuberance reminds me of all the other summers, here and on Orcas Island, when the hollyhocks have been a symbol of the tourist season and the quaint beauty that draws them year after year.
(And yes, as an English major, I can see at least two ways of interpreting "draws them" in that last sentence; just call it poetic license!)
Okay -- if I've gone so far as to post a butter dish as a photo, I might as well take this post to its logical conclusion -- are you ready? (My father would have loved the punniness of this) --- familiarity breeds content! (Aesop would of course have disagreed...)