I look at the above picture (taken my Jan Morrill) and wonder at the beauty of magic. See how the light plays and dances in the globe? How the hard world blurs, becomes softer, more mystical in its radiance? What a dark, gloomy place this world would be without magic.

So what do I mean my magic? Humans, being the way we are, try to make something difficult out something so simple. Oh sure, magic can be a grand thing, but most of the time, magic simmers just below the surface and waits to spill its essence in small seemingly quiet ways:
A license plate on the car in front of you bears your departed loved ones initials.
A smile.
A wink.
A kiss.
A red cardinal against the white of snow.
Twinkle lights in the trees.
Campfire.
A crow feather given in gratitude for the bird bath of water…