Journal: Saturday, May 6, 2006

I realize that there are great works of art in museums all over the world, but I also know – and was reminded of it today – that there are stunning masterpieces all around me at every moment. What prompted this reflection was a walk I just returned from, a short stroll in our town’s lovely park. I was astonished by the beauty I saw there as the trees and flowers and sky and sunset showed off their finest spring colors. I sat on a bench for a while and gazed at a dozen different views, each one capturing a piece of the radiant scene. Each glance was a view of a work of art that outdid the finest paintings in the best museums. As I walked back home for dinner, I saw some more lovely views – the houses with the evening light on them, a car sitting beneath the pale green leaves of a tree, and two young women walking along under the early evening sky. Wherever I looked, there seemed to be a picture worth studying the way I might study a painting in a museum. My little town seemed filled with artistic masterworks. It led me to wonder whether people who travel far distances to visit museums might be missing the museums in their own neighborhoods. I was reminded of Thoreau’s famous response when someone asked him why he didn’t travel more to visit faraway places: “Why should I travel to faraway places when so much is happening in Benson’s meadow?” I feel the same way. So much is happening right outside my house – so much that is dramatically beautiful. I guess I’ll start thinking about journeying to museums in New York, Paris, and London when I’ve thoroughly appreciated the paintings nature does for me right down the street in the park.