Afterwards it was a progression of mesmerizing detail. The bliss of the late summer afternoon was indescribably pleasant, at times soporific. The country fields were thriving with luxuriance. It was impossible not to be smug about the weather and the scenery. Everything contrived to perfection!
It is not every day that one is granted the indulgence of unmitigated pleasure, free from the absorption of want or concern. Within the scope of one’s admittedly narrow experience there remains the opportunity to fulfill one’s intellectual appetite for artistic satisfaction. It may involve a submission to an exact or even restricted focus. The transitional moment is not unlike the evolution of the butterfly from the chrysalis.