This is the nature of impermanence. No night without day. No light without dark. No beauty without decay. Everything ebbs & flows. To be static is to be without life. The only stasis is in the mind, in memory. But even when it’s enforced it slips around like smoke in your hand. To capture the beauty is to kill it. But is utter freedom desirable? No more than utter captivity. Is the middle way the way to go? Does that mean stasis? To be like a leaf on the wind, without laying roots, is romantic for a while – but then, the aching need for stability creeps in. (At least, every once in a while.) Better to have an anchor with a long chain! If beauty is in the eye of the beholder – then may the beholder see beauty in all things. I see beauty in rotting compost – insects & worms wriggling about – industry! I see beauty in an ageing face – experience! I see beauty in disease – revelation! I see beauty in misery & despair – understanding! I see beauty in chaos & destruction – transformation! I see beauty in death – freedom! This is all a projection.