Beauty in the Commonplace

We almost didn't go and I'm so glad we did! Hardy said, "If we don't go tonight then we've missed it." It was cold and rainy, but we grabbed our umbrella and off we went to see the exhibit American Chronicles: the Art of Norman Rockwell.

I remember seeing Rockwell's paintings when I was a child. My brother collected all kinds of magazines and kept them in an old shed in our yard. I'm quite sure that's where I saw them.  Rockwell published his paintings on the cover of The Saturday Evening Post for forty-seven years. Although he painted many portraits of the rich and the famous he said, "The commonplaces of America are to me the richest subjects in art. Boys batting flies on vacant lots; little girls playing jacks on the front steps . . . the things we have seen all our lives, and overlooked."

"The things we have seen all our lives, and overlooked."

I'n not a famous writer, and am not comparing my skills to Rockwell's, but I think the subjects he painted are the kind of things I like to write about. I'm in good company too. I'm reminded of L.M. Montgomery who became known worldwide because of her Anne books. On our visit to Ontario, I saw a compilation of "18 newly discovered stories" by L.M. Montgomery. It was published in 1994 with the title At the Altar. The stories are delightful character portraits of women who used to be called "old maids" because they had passed the marriageable age.The comedic happy ending in each story is a literary tradition, but it also pleased her readers, guaranteeing her an income. It certainly captures the social circumstances of most women of Montgomery's time and how difficult it was for them to remain strong and independent.

I also think of Theodor Storm (1817-1888), that famous North German poet and novelist who wrote wonderful stories of ordinary life as he observed the people around him. It was a delight last autumn, during our trip to Europe, to visit the harbour city of Husum and the house in which Storm lived and died. The house is now a museum.

"The things we have seen all our lives, and overlooked,"

This spring Hardy and I observed a pair of robins in our backyard. Last year they built a nest and laid their eggs, but the eggs never hatched. In late fall, when we returned from Europe, I retrieved the nest from our cedar tree with the two beautiful eggs still intact. Perhaps our presence in the yard had scared off the robins. This year it was quiet in our backyard because we were gone for two weeks. The robins had built their nest in the same place and the three babies had already hatched when we returned. A few days later the robin family treated us to a free show. The babies sat on our bird feeder and on the deck railing, waiting for their parents to come and feed them. They balanced precariously, their feathers ruffling in the wind. Flying was still so new to them. The parents hovered nearby, encouraging them with chirps and worms. Sometimes the male brought the worms to the female and she fed the young. It was definitely team work!

It doesn't seem that long ago when we were feeding our young and now they are feeding theirs and we are watching them. We never realized what an amazing dance of life we were performing and neither do they!

"The things we have seen all our lives, and overlooked."