Thursday, January 6, 2011

Bad Poetry

"The scene longs, lingers, yearns to become bad poetry."

Oh, the thin line between genius and ridicule. As I look at my surroundings, I am reminded of the vastness that exists. It's funny how when you are in one place for so long, it begins to look bland. Nothing is bland. My life is not bland and the place in which I live is colorful even under all this smog. A few days ago, a long lost friend commented on a photograph of Little Cottonwood Canyon, "Oh, Anne! How incredible! Where is this place?" What has become old hat is nothing of the sort.

Walking out of the office today, I looked up at the snow-capped mountains with different eyes than I did yesterday. Thank God for that.


Chelsea Lynn Irons said...

Yes I like this... Good post!

Laura Rose said...

natural beauty. everywhere.