In overhearing a coworker Behind the Cubicle Wall discussing his recent vaction in the Sierra Nevadas, I was struck with the realization that I may be blind to transcendent beauty.
And before my wife jumps on this one, let me say I blame her. You know, in the way you come into a building from a bright winter day, the sun reflecting off the snow, to discover everything dark. The feeble flourescents cannot compete, and it is almost as if the lights are off. Because I live with transcendent beauty, I am unobservant of lesser light. I hear my coworker ranting about the magnificence of the natural landscape, and I see the pictures he's taken, but, I don't know. Eh. Doesn't do anything for me. I can appreciate a natural wonder in principle, but I'm not struck on that visceral level.
I have my transcendence at home. Why give up easy access to indoor plumbing and refrigerated food to seek it in the wild?
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