What is beauty, does it exist and why?
A florist finds beauty in a floral arrangement, a lover in a single rose, a naturalist in the smell, a child in a fresh picked daisy, the old find beauty in the daffodil as pokes its yellow head through the snow, the forlorn find beauty in the dainty violet pressed between the pages of a book, a cynic says its crazy, that we find beauty at all.
For beauty is not something we can not touch and must be something to behold.
I confess I love to walk in the park in early spring and if by chance I spy the tiniest violet in bloom along the side of the path I walk, I smile. It is a thing of beauty, to be appreciated for its own sake, and for no other reason.
'Twas John Keats who said, the sylvan historian, who can't express a flowery tale more sweetly than the rhyme knows, 'Truth is beauty, beauty truth,' and that is all we know on earth and all we need to know.
So ignore the cynic and the scientist who try to reduce it to mere words. Beauty is a thing we feel and know.