Beauty Is In the Eye
I see things a little differently than others. On a January afternoon I was absolutely captivated by the surface of this classic 1955 R-120 International Harvester truck. In places I thought it looked like the surface of Mars seen from outer space. In others, like the hide of a piebald pony. On the whole, a work of art, a dappled thing, somehow dignified through moss and rust. Stalwart. Steadfast. Tenacious. Not to say tireless. (Original wheels and tires ready to roll.) From one freckled thing to another, caught in time, I say beauty.
Patina | pəˈtēnə | noun :
a green or brown film on the surface of bronze or similar metals, produced by oxidation over a long period.
PIED BEAUTY
Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.
