|image from picassawebalbums|
While skiing through Capital Hills golf course, I was impressed by the aesthetic of the shrubs, bare trees and (everywhere) bittersweet. As I glided along completely smitten by the exposed, winter panorama, I started thinking about how so often there is more present than what initially meets and greets the eye. How beauty can be subtly layered, frequently becoming more striking as the artifice is stripped away. Yes, of course, verdant greens and brightly hued flowers are obviously stunning, but is what remains after the blowsiness of youth has been exhausted of equal beauty? And, can the same rationale transfer to relationships? When the vibrancy and excitement of new love have weathered into a landscape of subtle shades of brown with bursts of unexpected vibrancy, is what remains more than bittersweet?