Awareness of beauty.
I remember the first time I touched snow and looked at the great pine trees towering above me cloaked in a glittering blanket of diamond cut ice and snow. “It looks just like the pictures, just like all the books said it would,” I gasped, “All the fairy stories are true,” Everything I read and looked at in sketches and pictures came alive before my eyes, more real and more bright than anything I had imagined. It was as if Aragon was taking the Fellowship right up the mountain and I was there too. It took the words I had read on a page and pasted them all around the world around me.
This morning I drove through a small neighborhood in eastern Washington full of swooping purple and pink blooming trees and pine trees and the sun floating through the limbs. The dew on the grass bounced light straight…
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