It is strange, the way familiarity changes beauty. To be sure, it draws out the irregularities, those details that the casual observers overlook. For some, those irregularities are blemishes, detracting from the wonder of the first encounter. For others, the details merely add to the complexity that makes up beauty.
As my train slowly weaves its way through the Columbia Gorge, I begin to think there is a third aspect to beauty. This is the reuniting of old friends, the rediscovery of forgotten joys. It’s listening to your favorite song one more time. It’s the return home after a journey.
What do you feel when you come home? I’d love to hear about it. Thanks for reading!