Perfection

I recently watched A River Runs Through It for the upteenth time. There's a scene where Brad Pitt's character braves enormous rapids to catch a rainbow trout with his exquisite fly fishing skills. Robert Bradford's character witnesses this was a time he had witnessed perfection.

This started me thinking, when have I seen perfection? And once again, it harkens back to a rose. Peace spanned the front fence of my boyhood home with huge lemon and pink blush petals. In my child's eye, they appeared to be the size of small balloons. In the tradition of many generations of Australian kids before me, my mother sent me to school with a bunch wrapped in wax paper and I laid them at the foot of the Virgin Mary. In my recollections, this is when holiness met perfection.