Palate Scratch

There’s beauty all around us. There’s beauty in the breakdown, there’s beauty in violence, and inspiration in it all. We just tend to get distracted by the now, the current; the ingrown nails and mosquito bite itches. But while we walk around with scowls on our faces and thunderclouds above our heads, the beauty of everything is still very much alive, and patiently waiting for our gazes to return and absorb it.

On my way to work, a head muddled with irritation, I drove my familiar route in autopilot mode; smoothly, but with no thought behind the action. To save battery power, my radio was switched off and my mind switched on. I was mentally grumbling, old lady with wet panties syndrome, going on and on about the inconveniences of life…

… and then a flicker of pick caught my eye.

I became quiet, and noticed the breath-taking start of another day. A autumn blanket of mist was covering the farms alongside the road – clumped up in the shallow valleys and disappearing like ghost breath on the horizon. The crisp morning green was dotted with patches of wild cosmos flowers, braided into the long, wispy grass that shimmered with gravitised fog.

I opened the windows to breathe in the first light of the morning, wondering how I managed to not notice it in the first place.

When there’s a thorn in your foot, and you choose to focus on it, even Armageddon will be second in line for attention.