Setter Grace
On my constitutional the other day, I walked a stretch of hard beach made wide by a low tide. The surf wasn’t terribly enthusiastic, playing its role in a perfunctory fashion. At least as far as a young Irish setter was concerned. She ran hundreds of yards across the ebb and flow, through water maybe six inches deep. She wasn’t racing, she was just running herself out, at a perfect speed. She might have kept it up for hours.
It was a truly beautiful site. Her legs barely needed the sand beneath the waves to hold her motion. Her grace was flawless, to the point that it expressed her joy with her marriage to her physical environment.
I’ve seen literally thousands of dogs on the beach in my years of perambulating, but rarely have I seen any in such perfect form. And it raised some questions which I am wont to share.
The first is, what is the purpose of beauty? I’m not talking about chicks and hunks finding attraction in each other on some primal need level so that we keep the race going. Rather, why does this dog’s grace strike a chord in me? What is the value to me as an individual to have an aesthetic experience that doesn’t seem to further me down the evolutionary track?
For that matter, what is the purpose of the aesthetic sense? Why do I find a hibiscus beautiful, or an orchid? Why should Prokofiev or Mozart capture my attention? Why do I find the writing of Robertson Davies so compelling? How is it that so many people find such contentment in watching the ocean?
It is an aspect of us that sets us apart from the rest of life that is essentially oriented toward utilitarian purpose. I infer that the purpose of aesthetics is as significant as it seems cursory. Like our intuition. I suggest that we cultivate this sense, naturally. It could be useful.
©2010 SetonnoteS
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