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.