I was just staring out my window on the 11th floor at the intensely beautiful bluffs surrounding my little college town. They can't Not be beautiful, I've come to realize. In the Summer, when I first came here, they were lush green, rolling and dense, and I couldn't help but fall in love a little. When Fall came, the vibrant golds and reds made it seem like the bluffs were on fire, positively ablaze with seeming enthusiasm to shock and induce gasps of wonder before the Winter came. And now that Winter is here, the stark hills covered in a fuzz-like layer of bare trees seem so serene and statuesque that it just amazes me how beautiful old, worn out things are.
I ran across this editorial a long time ago, but I just thought of it again today. It has a sort of wistfulness that I always seem to associate with bluffs, hills, and old things, and it has the perfect blend of organic elements with ersatz beauty that just is awe-inspiring. One of my favorite editorials I've seen to date, although I say that about all my favorite editorials.
And I'm listening to Florence and the Machines- Dog Days. Go listen to it now. It makes you just want to just jump out of your seat and dance.
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