Simplicity


He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter…. In winter the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity.

John Burroughs, “The Snow-Walkers,” 1866

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True beauty is found in simplicity.
Who said that?
Nothing fancy.
Nothing glamourous.
No sparkles.
No glitz.
No shiny baubles.
No makeup.
No expensive clothes.
Simple and delightfully minimal.
A bird.
Some twigs.
A grey sky.
All accented by a backdrop of the evergreen needles of the loblolly pine.
Simple.
Peaceful.
Beautiful.
A soft bundle of puffed up feathers working as an insulating coat for a young mocking bird set amongst the barren twigs and sticks of an empty crepe myrtle and the thorns of the barberry.
No red carpet.
No camera lights.
No who’s who.
Nothing manmade.
A small gift from the hand of the Beloved.
Simply real.
Simply beautiful.

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(images of a young, cold, mocking bird nestled along the twigs of a crepe myrtle of Julie’s yard / 2014)

The deep moral of winter

The simplicity of winter has a deep moral. The return of Nature, after such a career of splendor and prodigality, to habits so simple and austere, is not lost either upon the head or the heart. It is the philosopher coming back from the banquet and the wine to a cup of water and a crust of bread.
John Burroughs, “The Snow-Walkers,” 1866

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(frost covered marjoram / Julie Cook / 2013)