Thursday, July 31, 2014

"There Is Beauty In Imperfection" - A Story From Today

Peke and I walk every morning with our dog Baris in a canyon that forms part of Balboa Park here in San Diego.

It is an opportunity for us to catch up on the previous day before the rush of a new one and to be in touch with nature. Baris enjoys the smells of animals and sometimes chases rabbits or squirrels.

Through the canyon there is a stream that has been dried up for sometime.

On today's walk, we were greeted by a sprinkler system helping cleanse this parched land. We stopped under it and enjoyed a pleasant shower before moving on.

Next we came to a unique spot under the shade of the trees, with the smell of eucalyptus, and leaves under our feet, decorating a usually bare path. There was a foot bridge close by.

As we have done several times before in recent weeks, Peke and I noticed a beautiful flower. It had appeared out of place in an area without vegetation and next to some rocks.

A new friend of ours who lived near the canyon told us that these flowers, called naked ladies, were found in random locations throughout the canyon because of what he and his friends did fifty years ago. They'd pull them out of the ground and thrown them at each other.

After admiring the naked lady on the trail, we were abruptly distracted by the sound of running water.

"The stream is flowing," I observed with surprise.

Water was rushing under the foot bridge and in either direction, we could see more naked ladies popping up.

There was also now a man by the stream.

"I didn't expect to have an audience," he said, looking up at me standing on the foot bridge.

He was dressed in simple clothes and had feathers tucked into his hat. Wide sunglasses partially hid his eyes from me but they seemed to be moving in rapid succession.

I wondered out loud at the miraculous appearance of water. It appeared that he had expected it. I then inquired about its origin.

"Depends on which version you are ready to hear," he responded.

"Whichever one you believe," I answered.

He shrugged at me as if to say that it wasn't for him to decide.

His answer nevertheless involved three possible reasons: a faulty pipe; a reference about liquidation; or divine intervention.

His speech then turned into mutterings that I could not understand. What I did gather however were phrases that included how "water can appear in the desert" and those times when "north becomes south."

He spoke of power, control, and our quest for profit and finished with clarity by saying that "Everyone can do their part."

I looked down again at the rushing water as he moved his hands through it and realized that the origin of the water wasn't important. What mattered was that it existed right now. It was beautiful, it was real, and it was accompanied by an intriguing visitor with a message.

"Have a good day," I called out as he headed off.

"There is beauty in imperfection" he shot back before disappearing out of sight.























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