hmmmm, seems everyone's commenting on the ubiquity of beauty - but on the other hand...
"Why should you think that beauty, which is the most precious thing in the world, lies like a stone on the beach for the careless passer-by to pick up idly? Beauty is something wonderful and strange that the artist fashions out of the chaos of the world in the torment of his soul. And whern he has made it, it is not given to all to know it. To recognise it you must repeat the adventure of the artist. It is a melody that he sings to you, and to hear it again in your heart, you want knowledge and sensitiveness and imagination."

But of course he (Somerset Maugham) is talking about man-made (/woman-made) art, not the beauty of nature