Salt sea tears of gratitude

"How do you know when you are in the presence of beauty?" is a question my aunt asks her students to contemplate when they take her environmental art classes. I have been paying attention to my own physical and emotional responses when I see something beautiful. During this period of my life, tears come with beauty. Awe. Breathlessness. Stillness.

I think I was starting to believe I might have to settle for the lone tree outside my Philly window as the extent of nature in my life. Living and working in Philly made me hunger for earth and water and closeness to the ground in ways I didn't know I could hunger. I loved that tree outside my 29th street window, but I am gushing over the air that smells of any number of flowers, tall eucalyptus trees, food I see growing outside my window, the marina, the salty sea, succulents sprouting alongside cliffs, birds everywhere, and a culture of people who see plant life and animal as vital for survival. Tears come because I am grateful and relieved that I can live among rich color and a thriving environment.