Nocturne #19 – A Thorny Little Miracle
My little story is about the breathtaking beauty of nature — how it sweetly captivates us with the wonders it offers. Beauty can be subjective, shaped by each soul’s perception. Yet, there’s also an undeniable, objective beauty that speaks to everyone, like a universal language.
They say beauty is subjective, but I think that’s just an excuse for those who are too lazy to observe. In reality, there are moments that simply… are. Objectively perfect.
Today, in the dusty hustle of a suburban park, we found such a moment. A small, thorny philosopher bustling in the grass — a hedgehog. It was an unexpected miracle, a living detail, as if someone had added it to this vast, chaotic painting at the very end with a single brushstroke.
For the children, it was a character straight out of a fairytale. They watched this strange, adorable creature with interest and complete delight. For them, it was simply… a hedgehog. And that in itself was perfection.
As for me… well, I’m a bit weird. For me, this tiny creature became a key that unlocked the deepest and most cosmic door of my mind.
I started thinking… if this world, this reality, is someone’s creation, then that someone” is the most brilliant artist of all. He is a CGI Artist who “rendered” each of the hedgehog’s quills with perfect texture.
He is a Sound Designer who created the unique sound of its feet rustling on the grass. He is a Composer who wrote the melancholic soundtrack of the evening park. He is a Storyteller who gave this tiny creature a simple but most profound plot—to find its mother. He is a Scientist who wrote the laws of physics—the code that makes it all run.
This projection we live in is one grand, interactive art installation. And we, the artists, are the strange visitors who don’t just look; we try to understand what the author meant. We are detectives of meaning. We search for substance in every detail, and if we can’t find it—we invent it.
So it turns out: the little hedgehog simply charmed our children. But for me… it made me start writing this post.
Interesting…
Meanwhile, my umpteenth ‘self-sneaks up from behind and whispers in my ear: “You poor, unfortunate soul!”