Walker isn't merely celebrating nature appreciation—she's suggesting that inattention itself is a moral failing, a kind of ingratitude that wounds something larger than ourselves. The specific color matters: purple isn't the obvious choice, not the dramatic red sunset or the commanding mountain vista. She's defending the small, easily overlooked miracles that require us to actually *stop*, to interrupt our hurried passage through the world. When you rush through a difficult conversation with a family member without noticing the uncertainty in their eyes, or scroll past a friend's quiet post without really seeing it, you're committing the same oversight she describes—and the sacred, as she sees it, takes that erasure personally.