Through Her Eyes

beau-ty noun. byü-tē -the qualities in a person or a thing that give pleasure to the senses or the mind.

The assignment was simple.  As Molly rode her bike, she was to  photograph anything she found beautiful.  That got me thinking.  Who are we to decide what makes something beautiful?  Beautiful; according to who?  I watched as Molly captured the images she found beautiful, through her eyes.

It soon became obvious we'd be stopping to smell the flowers along the way.

 

Her first picture was of her bike basket.  It carries some of her most favorite things.  Library movies, night-nights, Barbies, baby dolls and flowers.

 

 

Her second shot was a red tulip growing amongst the lily-of-the-valley. 

 

A yard saturated with violets caught her eye next.  She and I often pick violets to put in our hair.  So of course she found this yard beautiful. 

Next up was this goose.  It reminded me of how Grandma and Grandpa Claussen had a set of stone piglets in their landscaping and how fascinated I was with them.

 

Molly and I have been obsessed with purple trees this spring.  I wasn't surprised when she stopped to capture this one.

 

I don't know what this flower is called, but it's purple, pretty, big, and Molly likes it.

 

 

She really wanted a photo of this porch.  I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted.  

 

I couldn't be happier that she sees beauty in everyday, mundane things.  She finds dandelions and creeping Charlie to be just as miraculous as tulips and lilacs.  And I love that about her.

 

Simple things we take for granted each and every day... some of which we spray to get rid of.

 

 

 

During the assignment, she asked to take a photo of me.  At first I refused.  I wasn't wearing a lick of make-up, I hadn't showered and I was wearing a shirt with a husky dog on it.  Enough said.  I looked terrible.  Seriously, I'm in a dog shirt.  Then it occurred to me. 

 

I'm her mom.  This is what her mom looks like.  This is how she sees me and she doesn't think I look terrible without make-up while wearing a dog shirt.  She doesn't see the sun spots, the wrinkles and messy hair as a bad thing.  To her, I just look like mom. 

 

 

The image I have of my mom is not one where she's dressed up with hair and make-up complete.  It's the image of her without make-up, hair barely brushed, peeling potatoes wearing chic jeans and a stained Strawberry Fest shirt.  I've come to realize that's what 'moms' look like.  I never questioned whether my mom was beautiful, she just always was and always will be.  A mom is a safe place with warm eyes and soft skin, a soothing voice and a sweet scent. 

And I think that's what makes a mom beautiful afterall. 

 

 

 

However, the most beautiful thing I witnessed this day was a little girl in a sparkly dance costume squatting down in the grass with a Nikon D7000 camera to take a picture of a dandelion.