Great Beauty

I've always had this affection for Great Beauty as expressed through nature. I was raised by parents that loved beauty and respected nature and worked hard to not pollute it. And part of my "great affection" bordered on a romanticism which had it roots in the Enneagram Type 4 motivation point. I had longings and sighings and yearnings that Great Beauty in nature seemed to resonate with.

Then one day while reading a story of people finding the bones of a lost camper in one of the more beautiful spots in the world, I had a jarring (but obvious) thought. This Great Beauty of nature didn't care one iota about me. This Great Beauty would metaphorically stand there while I starved to death or thirsted to death or "injured" myself to death and would literally do nothing.

So much for Great Beauty (and all the sighings and longings and yearnings that it invokes).

Every vista of Great Beauty needs to have a sign that reads "Not To Be Messed With - I Might Be Beautiful But You Mean Nothing To Me"