Mimetes cucullatus drooping perianths

Every viewing of a flower is fresh, as every glance reported to the brain, in the sense that one never swims in the same river twice. It is a useful outlook, averting boredom and keeping the senses alert. The eye is almost never too tired to see.

The garden pleases the senses every day. The eye of the beholder discovers beauty, honours it by doing what eyes do. The acts of seeking and seeing what is out there are rewarding parts of living, often key to life. Expanding experience beats using stock from the internal consciousness warehouse, like the new and the unknown stimulate the mind as long as curiosity resides there. It beats vicarious living in a bright morning and at mysterious dusk.

Some find the words, write the music or paint the picture. Most only sense the wonder, the spark that may subconsciously make the memory. Some magic moments remain for life, sparking in occasional, unexpected recall.

In most people those singular experiences defy a shape for sharing, buried deep inside as personal treasure. For the experienced spark has no shape, size or duration. It does occasionally respond to effort and skill, blossoming as art in those with talent and fortitude.

And then there is the other way of looking: objective observation, comparison with previous records, followed by logic, competence and analysis, culminating in a conclusion. This other part of human life has so many bread and butter uses, not for mastering the essence of beauty.

But where a gap is discovered, the human mind finds a challenge...