The blooming eight foot bougainvillea created a tunnel with its overhanging boughs between the several six inch trunks of a banana tree with its translucent thirty-six inch leaves filtering the sun and the broad leaf ten foot plant on its left.  Over a thousand shed, pink petals provided an afghan to the carpet of lush green grass in the yard.  Additional bushes and plants formed a backdrop for nature’s painting on this sunny day.


I was drinking my morning coffee as I looked through the large plate glass window of my son’s dining room.  The open sliding glass door next to me provided a perfectly temperatured breeze to enfold my person and warm my soul.


Medical monitors would have documented what I already knew.  My blood pressure had dropped a few points, as had my pulse.  I was at peace.  I was calm.  I was somehow, dare I say mystically, a part of that particularly beautiful scene while I observed myself in the painting.


I am in Honolulu visiting my son and his girl friend for my annual pilgrimage of parental obligation.  I had left my home in Omaha six hours before a blizzard struck, last Monday.  Somehow, even the coffee tastes better when life is so good.  Or maybe, it’s because I feel whole.  Beauty, in any form, does that for me.



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