high tea in Roswell, New Mexico/ part 2

high tea in Roswell, New Mexico/ part 2

fiction
edward w pritchard

It's not necessary to dip into the formal elegance, glamour and romance of high tea at the Savoy, Ritz or Dorchester in London, England to enjoy life and the moment profoundly.

For me the good life starts at a fine Art museum, sometimes free to enter, always worth the price to view the collection and experience three hours of civilized ambiance.

If I am going to the World class museum in any major city in America a quick lunch at the local Wendy's works for me. In it's own way the food at Wendy's is more than tolerable and the atmosphere is never too formal and the premises suit my American sensibilities.

No matter what form of transport I arrive at the museum in I quickly forget the trip cross town when I begin to view the items and paintings. Vermeer and Bronzino fascinate me.

I hear it takes light 93 billion light years to travel across the known universe and it's still not a certainty that life exists anywhere else according to those in the know. My mind can't really comprehend such things. Nor do I spend my time learning hundreds of secret meanings of the number 42.

Send me to the Art museum. It amazes me to see how someone else saw the World.

At the art museum a rock on the shelf may be a billion years old but it's the missing chips created by someone's imagination a few thousand years ago to create a delicate carving of a twisted horse that I find profound.

People, trapped in the here and now of the confines of the Milky Way galaxy, trying to find significance in every day things.