I live in Deepswamp, Georgia. This does not seem to be a promising location for artistic inspiration. Van Gogh wanted to move to Japan, having heard the light there was special but friends convinced him that the light in France was very similar.
Well, light falls on the just and the unjust, the Japanese and the French and yes, it had a different quality in St. Augustine where I used to live and here in Deepswamp where I now reside. But I insist that beauty is all around us if we have eyes to see.
I recently decided to mine my unpromising locale for beauty. It is now late fall and things are turning brown, dark grey and gold-the year is becoming frail and elderly. Can there be much beauty in these muted colors and declining light? Yes, everywhere!
Behind my house is a swamp. It is crammed with thorny bushes, decaying logs and no doubt, snakes. I would not be the least bit surprised to find an alligator in the backyard. A trillion bejeweled tree frogs strike up an opera whenever it warms up enough. A large, haughty gopher tortoise roams about the neighborhood, giving humans a dirty look for invading her territory. She chonks on my garden produce with impunity, well aware that I owe her this tribute. She was here first.
The night before last I set out to find beauty and immediately behind my house, a palmetto was blazing in the slanting afternoon light. It only blazed for a few minutes as the sun was setting rapidly but time enough to grab a photo for a study.
Last night I found red-tipped ferns peeking out behind silvery grass beside the road and then light peeking through tree trunks, which were somehow cheerful-looking. If you walked along the same path I followed you would probably see little of interest. But take time to really look. The light is changing, the vegetation is changing, life is going on and leaving beauty in its wake.