In days gone by there was a thing called magic that was not a joke. There was nothing of illusion about it. It was, for a long time, the most powerful force that any of us knew. It did not go away so much as hid its face behind a series of masks that we gave names to like nature, and science, and love.

We can still see it in silly things like laughter and dreams. It hides behind the sun.

One day last week I saw it floating in the trees, watching me watching it. I think it was trying to tell me something. I don’t know if I am ready to hear what it has to say but I think I almost am.

Ancient spirits are waiting with divine patience for the night when they will dance again around the magic fire.


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