I have written about Wabi-Sabi before.
Wabi-Sabi (n): Flawed beauty; beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. Finding beauty within the imperfections of life.
This week, with encouragement from Terri of Sunday Stills, I took a look at my vision of dilapidated. In my bubble of a world that brings me to wabi-sabi. I believe beauty can be coaxed out of almost anything. During our travels and hikes we don’t necessarily look, but often find that beauty in ambiguity.
What if I told you dilapidated things might be art? This dead tree has been on the ledge of Crater Lake for years. I know because I have taken a photo of it every time we visit. If alive our view would be obstructed. Instead it feels like an invitation to stop. A great place to linger near this sculpture, framed by nature.
Maybe dilapidated’s purpose is to honor the memory of another time and place. This was the old miner’s car from the Mt. St Helens blast in 1980. It is now the sculptured centerpiece to a native wildflower garden. Is it to help us remember? Or is is nature’s way to show us that life goes on?
Maybe broken, dilapidated things show you the way. On a hike out to Cape Alava we came across this washed out boardwalk. I loved it. It gave us insight to the powerful river that ran through here another day and it gave us a chance to find our own way.
The beauty of wabi-sabi is in one respect, the condition of coming to terms with what you consider ugly. – Leonard Koren
Have you ever thought…everything might just be a gateway to another place? At Redwoods, massive trees fall and block the trails. They are often too big to climb over and it would require a sizable detour to go around. So under we go. Look again. This redwood bridge of the collapsed tree is also a nurse log, an ecosystem in itself.
Accept the transient nature of things, earthly things, to show you the way.
Maybe it’s a place to begin. This burnt tree from a previous forest fire is a beautiful vase for the thriving forest. It, too, is it’s own ecosystem, and a great home for the chipmunk who scurried down the crack.
There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in. – Leonard Cohen.
Wind Kisses, Donna