I considered the flag, flapping in the wind, unfurling to display a red and yellow crest, some long forgotten coat of arms. The building below was a church, Gothic in style I think, what with flying buttresses and the like, but I’m such a Neanderthal with such things. I call it pretty or ugly and that is enough for me. Do you have to be able to give something a name or classification to appreciate it’s beauty? I don’t know. Perhaps in the knowing of the mind the beauty of the heart is made complete.