The universe is beautiful. Simply. Scientific accounts only enhance the beauty. From data to observation to hypothesis to tentative fact, in multiples, science brings to the intellect the realities to be beheld. The world is richer in the information and knowledge derived from the scientific process. Reality grew, in one perspective, from a finite world excluding Eden, to many universes and many more worlds. The moon shines light upon us on earth from the star, our sun, in the opposite direction. Perhaps there may be implications from such a simple fact, but behold, starlight is bright even when merely reflected, and is beautiful. Reality grew too, in another perspective, from creatures of God to myriad organisms, some many-celled, composed of information carrying DNA, nerve bundles, eyes, the senses, a brain? The implied (and actual) complexity of star stuff developing into life stuff is beautiful. There is beauty in mystery too. For all that we can be informed, the awareness grows of so much more that is unknown. This is true as a human being, even perhaps especially a specialist, looking at the horizon of what she knows, and as an enterprise, the human civilizations, pondering what is beyond the reach of our present state. If mystery cannot stimulate the aesthetic sense, then one sure is poorer for it. To behold the night sky, the unimaginable distances and unsurmountable time this vision was accrued upon, this is a particular way of imagining our being in the world beyond. Life itself, fleeting as it may be, is a tremendous miracle, perhaps lotteries being won over and over, during the far reaching eons, the improbable became actual.