Like beauty, perfection is in the eye of the beholder. I’ve had many perfect days fly fishing, and many days at the beach that where perfect. Oddly enough, each was different, but still perfect.
So what is perfection? Maybe it can’t be defined, as moment by moment, everything changes.
Or maybe, just maybe, perfection changes, too, making each moment a perfect one.
Here’s one of my favorite definitions of perfect, courtesy of the 1966 Bruce Brown film “The Endless Summer”
What is your view, or vision of perfection?