Writers Island - Magic!

It’s winter. When I look from my window I see a barren landscape. Naked trees, brown earth and frozen lakes. If I were to close my eyes and open them a few months later all will have changed.

Golden daffodils and nodding snowdrops appear from nowhere. The oak and the ash wear a coat of freshest green and fluffy ducklings frantically paddle behind their proud mother.

That’s magic.

Santa struggles down a tiny chimney, and the tooth fairy flutters silently into a child’s room in the depths of night.

That’s magic.

I break a bone and it mends itself. I cut my finger and new skin grows. If I bang my head I see stars.

Now that’s magic.

An artist mixes yellow with blue and green appears. A few strokes of his brush, a flourish of his palette knife, and and an empty white canvas becomes an object of startling beauty.

Surely that’s magic.

I lift my phone and speak to my son thousands of miles away. I write a message and a reply comes back in seconds. I see pictures from outer space, and I press a button on a tiny metal box and a moment in time is recorded for posterity.

That’s magic.

/
A new life is created from a simple act of love.

Pure magic.

.

I saw a conjurer cut a lady in half. He produced a rabbit from a hat and did all sorts of tricks with a pack of cards.

That was....clever.