I just ate a peach.
It was arguably the best peach I've ever had.
Certainly the best peach I've eaten in recent memory.
And while I was eating it, while it was rooting me to the floor with its incomprehensible deliciousness, I felt a kind of desperation. I felt trapped in the futile desire to capture, to save its perfection. I wanted to encase this peach, in all its glorious, juicy, complex flavor, in a permanent bubble so that I could enjoy it forever. When the dreary hopelessness of January stretches before me, I want to be able resurrect that peach.
But, of course, I can't. I was resigned to the ephemeral Now. The only thing to do was to savor this fleeting but sublime moment, knowing that to render it eternally present would be to condemn it to mundanity.
And that - that fleeting perfection of the moment - is the best way I know of to define Beauty.
No comments:
Post a Comment