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A few years ago, I was hiking a steep stretch of the Appalachian Trail. The grade was so sharp that my body was pitched forward, eyes fixed on the rough climb ahead. If the trail had been any gentler, I probably would have missed it entirely.
A flash of color flickered at the edge of my vision. I stopped, straightened, and scanned the forest floor. Nothing but green. I knew I’d seen something—something bright—but now the woods offered only their usual palette of green. I started climbing again, leaning low into the slope, and glanced back to my right.
There it was. Beauty—quiet, tucked away, almost shy.
A trillium.
I’d walked past trillium hundreds of times, but I had never really seen it – it was a Flower! The bloom hung beneath its leaves, nodding toward the ground, as if bowing to the forest that towered and thundered around it. A humble little flower hiding in plain sight while the rest of the woods clamored for attention.
Since that day, I’ve trained myself to look for trillium in the woods around my home. And surprisingly, I find them often. Their flowering window is brief, but during those days their beauty is always there - waiting for someone patient enough, curious enough, observant enough to notice.
There have been seasons in my life when I’ve felt like that trillium—overshadowed, overlooked, unseen. I think most of us have. Waiting for the right person to catch that quick flash of color, to pause long enough to recognize the beauty we carry.
This month’s painting is for all the hidden beauty in the world—waiting to be noticed, waiting to be shared. I’m excited to include a poem I wrote about that first encounter with Trillium.
A few years ago, I was hiking a steep stretch of the Appalachian Trail. The grade was so sharp that my body was pitched forward, eyes fixed on the rough climb ahead. If the trail had been any gentler, I probably would have missed it entirely.
A flash of color flickered at the edge of my vision. I stopped, straightened, and scanned the forest floor. Nothing but green. I knew I’d seen something—something bright—but now the woods offered only their usual palette of green. I started climbing again, leaning low into the slope, and glanced back to my right.
There it was. Beauty—quiet, tucked away, almost shy.
A trillium.
I’d walked past trillium hundreds of times, but I had never really seen it – it was a Flower! The bloom hung beneath its leaves, nodding toward the ground, as if bowing to the forest that towered and thundered around it. A humble little flower hiding in plain sight while the rest of the woods clamored for attention.
Since that day, I’ve trained myself to look for trillium in the woods around my home. And surprisingly, I find them often. Their flowering window is brief, but during those days their beauty is always there - waiting for someone patient enough, curious enough, observant enough to notice.
There have been seasons in my life when I’ve felt like that trillium—overshadowed, overlooked, unseen. I think most of us have. Waiting for the right person to catch that quick flash of color, to pause long enough to recognize the beauty we carry.
This month’s painting is for all the hidden beauty in the world—waiting to be noticed, waiting to be shared. I’m excited to include a poem I wrote about that first encounter with Trillium.