What beauty is overlooked in our mad rush from chore to chore? What fairies hide in the bushes while we rocket past from door to door?

The other day I found myself walking through miles of soft mist, which was a minor miracle in the middle of a California drought. I had just come from a rather pleasant experience at the DMV, which was even more miraculous, and I stopped along the way to gaze at the haze of clouds hovering above the city cemetery.

Precisely 232 years ago to the day, Ben Franklin wrote that “death and taxes” were the only certainties in this world and I guess as far as our government is concerned he may have been right. But there are worlds within worlds, and at this particular moment I was interested in the one that shielded the public space reserved for eternal sleep from the harrying noise of passing traffic.

Landscaping might not seem like its own world from your usual vantage point of 6 feet above the ground, but before you reach the point 6 feet below you might wanna take a closer look and see what you’re missing. One of my favorite things to admire is the myriad of spider webs found in these leafy hotels that house all sorts of tiny, scurrying critters.

When sprinkling water from light rain or morning dew splashes through the leaves it trickles through little spiderweb nets and collects into strings of pearls that would make Audrey Hepburn jealous.

So the next time life’s certainties have you feeling anxious, slow down and take a breath. Look around. Turn over a new leaf. Life’s most spectacular surprises might just be hiding in plain sight.