At first glance, I didn't think her very pretty. The years etched her face in tracks, running in every direction. The bright light of day only brought attention to the crisscrossing lines.
Then, she smiled. It was not a smile composed solely of mouth and teeth, but one of radiance, showing forth depth of soul. I felt ashamed that I hadn't noticed her loveliness a few seconds before.
My hand touched the garden bench as I rose to move closer. The scrolls of wrought iron had deep grooves in it that formed an intricate pattern, and I thought it a work of art.