By Carrie Jacobson

There is a famous story about the obvious that was told to me as a young journalist, and which I always told to young journalists who wandered into my sphere of influence, when I used to have one.

As the body of President John F. Kennedy lay in the Capitol Rotunda, and thousands of journalists wrote about the scene, the emotions, the Americans who had lined up to pay their respects, Jimmy Breslin went to Arlington National Cemetery and interviewed the man who would dig Kennedy’s grave. (You can read that story here: http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/digging-grave-an-honor.htm).

The story gives me shivers. Always has. And it has always offered an excellent lesson, too, to look beyond the obvious.

It’s one of those lessons I forget and relearn regularly.

My friend and I were in northern Maine, on our way to Canada, when we found a field of lupines along the edge of a road. We stopped to paint, entranced by the masses of flowers, the sweet smell, the way the colors shone in the sun. (You can see that painting here: http://carriejacobson.blogspot.com/2010/06/lupines.html)

 

I finished before Heather, and decided to do another painting. I turned around and saw the scene you see above – and I felt like kicking myself.

The first scene was fine, but it was obvious. This one is miles better in every way.

Lesson learned. Again.