A blessing in the contrasts

We're going off for a drive today, crossing the mountains and heading into desert territory for a bit. The photos my husband brought back from his recent excursion into the wild west have whetted my appetite for starker vistas, and, living in Washington State, we are fortunate that we can live in a rain forest or on a beach and still have access to desert and mountains in only an hour or two.

The artist in me has been craving simplicity lately -- I suspect that's why I've been pursuing these more mechanical images -- ferry interiors and such. But I've also been drinking in a lot of color; hypersaturating images to bring out the shades that lie beneath what appears to be a simple gray.

Today, however, it was this photo -- shot at a car show last summer -- that called out most loudly to be seen. And I suspect it is symbolic of a sort of stripping-down that is occurring (or needs to occur) as we continue navigating this next section of our lives. Perhaps I needed to be reminded that simplicity is a good thing; that at times I even crave it. Or maybe it's just -- given that we are edging into that annual transition time that occurs every fall, when our daughters pass through our lives again on their way back to college -- that I'm creating a quiet moment of peace in preparation for the inevitable storms ahead.

Whatever the reason, I find this one to be a soothing reminder that there is an underlying structure to life; that its patterns are time-tested and familiar; and that beauty can still be found, even when there is no color, as long as there is a healthy balance of light and shadow, ups and downs; bumpy roads and smooth. There is a blessing contained in all those contrasts, just as there are blessings in living in a state with so many different eco-systems. If you get a little bored with familiar vistas it's easy --sometimes scarily so! -- to slip over into a completely different territory. And it's all good.