The Magic of an Ordinary Day
by gina below
Far away the morning sun winks over the lush southern treetops and gently nudges the beginning of a new day awake. Magic trickles down and sparkles off the dew, the fields and meadows shimmer and stir. The first breath of day whispers a sigh and hints of treasures unfound. Summer calls like a birdsong and sprinkles the glitter of joy through the untouched shadows of the woods and they wait patiently for their turn to bask in the glory of the coming morning. The sun breaks with brilliant flare and heralds the coming day as it cascades like a waterfall into the shadows. Enchantment flickers and waits.
Wonder patiently beckons for us to find it as we walk in the early shadows of the new day. We are children of the summer and we unceremoniously meander the field edge near the woods. The singsong praise of the early morning bird chorus heralds the new day. The smell of freshly plowed earth greets us and the damp sandy loam clings to our shoes as an untied shoestring drags along in our wake, not wanting to be left behind regardless of the fact it will never again be the same color as its partner. What magic has called to us so early? What amazement awaits us this summer day? What can we imagine?
We are silent this morning, comfortable in our companionship, friends even though we are siblings, playmates and partners. We watch the miracle of the morning together as the reverence of it washes over us, for a split second unaware of just how very fleeting this particular miracle is. But we are in the magic of the moment and just let it be. Then awareness brings itself to the forefront and even as young as we are we know we have just witnessed a passing phenomenon, never to be seen again. We had shared many such instances in our past; we have learned to recognize them for the rare gems that they are. We catalogue it away in our shared memory under “wondrous things to remember.” We know we will miss this one day, but we speak not of it and appreciate it for what it is.
Words are unnecessary as we smile at each other and go about the business of discovering what the day holds. Is it the pirates that call from behind the trees, or maybe the fairies teasing the elves today? Just maybe a fortress needs building to fend off evil doers or an unheard of super hero waits to be found? Are there cowboys and Indians waiting? There are treasures hidden, of that we are certain. It could be just the wonderment of the day and the laughter that we share over nothing in particular. Whatever it is, where ever we find it, with spectacular anticipation we forge ahead creating something out of nothing, magic out of imagination. Many years will pass before we discover the true treasure, which was merely that certain space in time. So with our old fuzzy brown dog in tow we go forward and slip into the magic of an ordinary day.