On Christmas eve
when I was about four years old,
my parents woke my older sister and me,
at just before midnight,
and stood us on a table in the all,
both of us shivering in our nightgowns,
our still-damp hair
rolled up in rag curls . . .
waiting
for what we knew not.
Though bleary eyed
we saw that what our eyes were gazing at
was a dark, wooden house on the wall,
surrounded by ivy.
And then suddenly
a door at the peak of the house opened,
and out came a little bird,
saying, ‘cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo
twelve times.
I was astonished
at how that little bird
appeared out of the darkness
and sang to us in the middle of the night . . .
that was magic to me.
My father
snapped a picture
to commemorate the moment.
My definition of ‘magic’
has broadened since then
to include men on stilts,
sunsets,
rain and snow,
ice skaters in the Olympics,
and watching women in Serbia
making phyllo dough on their kitchen tables
so thin you can see through it . . .
wind chimes,
rabbits,
childrens’ laughter
and colours strewn across a white page
like petals from a flower.
It is making eye contact with a wild creature . . .
a turtle basking in the sun on a rock
or a fox peering out at me from the woods.
Life is full of magic
if I choose to see it . . .
if not,
my heart is in a sad state of affairs.
So my mission in life
is to look for it,
see it,
touch it,
explore it,
and let it touch me back. ♥
Time is the most magical thing to me because, through time, I see changes within myself, settings, places that I like, people, and things. It brings me joy and happiness, as well as regrets and nostalgia, and through that, it helps me feel grateful for what I currently have because I know that everything will pass, including myself. Love and hate. Time is magical.
The Moon and the light which encloses all into its magic light; the stars sparkling from high above the sky; a smile which may transform someone’s cloudy mood into joy; and stillness. Wishing all a magic weekend full of wonder. ✨
It turns out, I don’t often think of things as magical.
Things may be amazing or awesome or incredible, but I almost never think of things as magical. Maybe it’s my rigid adult mind or my inner cynic.
Sometimes, when I watch someone do a task or craft that they have become extremely good at, it will look like a sleight of hand or a magic trick and impress me with there skill, but I never consider something to be magical.
Don’t get me wrong, I am in awe of so much of what goes on around me, but like watching a bird in flight, I am so impressed and amazed, but I don’t think that it’s magic. Maybe I’m being too literal.
It’s a little like wishing, it can get me into trouble, in the sense of magical thinking. Thinking that I will somehow magically be able to do something or something will magically appear for me, is not a good place for my brain to be.
Seeing things as they truly are, and accepting what is, is a goal of mine, and a difficult enough task without hoping, wishing, or believing that there is another realm of reality to consider.
Nature is very magical to me, there is so much wonder and beauty within it. Waterfalls and the way their flow never ends, the way clouds fill the sky with their unique, never replicated, shapes (well, the natural ones at least lol). The few everlasting flames that exist in the earth, the creatures whom roam it, there is so much wonder and magic.
The weather in Minnesota is very magical. It was just a week ago, temps were in the 40s and 50s. Suddenly, starting Monday, we’re getting 80s and 90s consistently.
The lupine on the edge of a hay field. It has one stalk completely bloomed and many others full of buds. Soon it will be full of purple stalks. Peace, Love & Light.
I well remember,
dear Joseph,
the stunning beauty of wild lupine
that grew in the mountains of Colorado . . .
i tried planting some here,
but ‘somebody’
ate them all.
Please enjoy yours for me
with your heart. ♥
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On Christmas eve
when I was about four years old,
my parents woke my older sister and me,
at just before midnight,
and stood us on a table in the all,
both of us shivering in our nightgowns,
our still-damp hair
rolled up in rag curls . . .
waiting
for what we knew not.
Though bleary eyed
we saw that what our eyes were gazing at
was a dark, wooden house on the wall,
surrounded by ivy.
And then suddenly
a door at the peak of the house opened,
and out came a little bird,
saying, ‘cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo
twelve times.
I was astonished
at how that little bird
appeared out of the darkness
and sang to us in the middle of the night . . .
that was magic to me.
My father
snapped a picture
to commemorate the moment.
My definition of ‘magic’
has broadened since then
to include men on stilts,
sunsets,
rain and snow,
ice skaters in the Olympics,
and watching women in Serbia
making phyllo dough on their kitchen tables
so thin you can see through it . . .
wind chimes,
rabbits,
childrens’ laughter
and colours strewn across a white page
like petals from a flower.
It is making eye contact with a wild creature . . .
a turtle basking in the sun on a rock
or a fox peering out at me from the woods.
Life is full of magic
if I choose to see it . . .
if not,
my heart is in a sad state of affairs.
So my mission in life
is to look for it,
see it,
touch it,
explore it,
and let it touch me back. ♥
Lightening shower
Northern lights
Sunrise and sets
Time is the most magical thing to me because, through time, I see changes within myself, settings, places that I like, people, and things. It brings me joy and happiness, as well as regrets and nostalgia, and through that, it helps me feel grateful for what I currently have because I know that everything will pass, including myself. Love and hate. Time is magical.
My Ngoc, speaking of time, we’re at the halfway mark not of not seeing each other.
Poetry
The Moon and the light which encloses all into its magic light; the stars sparkling from high above the sky; a smile which may transform someone’s cloudy mood into joy; and stillness. Wishing all a magic weekend full of wonder. ✨
Ose, Thought you might enjoy a poem I wrote several years ago.
“The Moon Knows” by Carol Conner
The moon knows
that it is not
the light.
Without the sun
it wouldn’t
rule the night.
Like me
sometimes
it turns within
a sliver
then half
then whole again.
Dark clouds
may hide it
from my view.
Dark clouds
I know
I get them, too.
The storms
they bring
will always pass.
The sun
once more
its light will cast.
Upon my sliver,
my half,
my whole.
New light
arises
in my soul.
A moon child
I will
always be.
It’s light
my guide
through stormy seas.
I love your poem,
dear Carol Ann . . .
it captures the essence
of Life to me. ♥
beautiful, and full moon today/tonight 0445. 🌕
It turns out, I don’t often think of things as magical.
Things may be amazing or awesome or incredible, but I almost never think of things as magical. Maybe it’s my rigid adult mind or my inner cynic.
Sometimes, when I watch someone do a task or craft that they have become extremely good at, it will look like a sleight of hand or a magic trick and impress me with there skill, but I never consider something to be magical.
Don’t get me wrong, I am in awe of so much of what goes on around me, but like watching a bird in flight, I am so impressed and amazed, but I don’t think that it’s magic. Maybe I’m being too literal.
It’s a little like wishing, it can get me into trouble, in the sense of magical thinking. Thinking that I will somehow magically be able to do something or something will magically appear for me, is not a good place for my brain to be.
Seeing things as they truly are, and accepting what is, is a goal of mine, and a difficult enough task without hoping, wishing, or believing that there is another realm of reality to consider.
Nature is very magical to me, there is so much wonder and beauty within it. Waterfalls and the way their flow never ends, the way clouds fill the sky with their unique, never replicated, shapes (well, the natural ones at least lol). The few everlasting flames that exist in the earth, the creatures whom roam it, there is so much wonder and magic.
Castles
Folklore
Full Moons
Cats
Bats
Harry Potter
Serendipity
Love
Halloween
Great fun question – looking forward to reading all the responses
totally forgot to add weeping willow trees
Michele, I know of many castles from Mario games. Princess Peach has one but Bowser has a whole bunch of them.
I have always loved castles – my son used to play Mario and I remember him showing me Castlevania
Good list,
dear Michele . . . 🙂
Thank you Sparrow – had fun writing them all down and thinking about it.
The weather in Minnesota is very magical. It was just a week ago, temps were in the 40s and 50s. Suddenly, starting Monday, we’re getting 80s and 90s consistently.
The meow of a kitten and the purr of its mom.
The ocean’s tides leaving behind the treasures of the sea..
Ah,
yes,
dear EJP . . .
the treasures . . . ♥
The lupine on the edge of a hay field. It has one stalk completely bloomed and many others full of buds. Soon it will be full of purple stalks. Peace, Love & Light.
I well remember,
dear Joseph,
the stunning beauty of wild lupine
that grew in the mountains of Colorado . . .
i tried planting some here,
but ‘somebody’
ate them all.
Please enjoy yours for me
with your heart. ♥