When Magic Finds You

We don't have a better word than magic for those nebulous, ethereal moments in life, unexpected, when all seems beautiful, when peace settles over the heart, when nature is friendly, when one feels close to heaven. But that's not really it. Part of the magical quality is its inability to be described.

For school today, Julia and I went for a "nature walk" after lunch. I went to look for pine cones, and she for leaves. I forgot the camera, of course. We went to a different park, or rather not a park, but a walking trail in town. I knew it was there, but I'd never visited it. "Walking Trail" sounds so serious, with huffing runners who don't say hello and little mile markers to tell you how athletic you are. Ick.

Not so this trail. I've not seen such a little place of wonder in a long time. Something about the placement of the trees, the picking up of the wind, the deep grey-blue sky, the coming rain, the absence of any other souls. We heard dogs bark and someone raking leaves in a neighborhood. The level path wound through scattered woods, with a small creek beside. We found an expansive field, perfect for flying a kite or throwing a boomerang, or playing a game of neighborhood football. No one was there. Julia and Sandy ran until they were out of breath.

I'm glad I have a child who doesn't grumble about being alone, who is happy with just a dog, a tree to climb, a field to fly in. We will certainly go there again, and take Adam and Anna along. And a camera. Julia wants to take a picnic. But I wonder whether it will have the same effect; will the magic have dissipated like blown leaves, or a dark sky?

Anyway, that was school today. Perhaps that's one more benefit of homeschooling -- that finding magic can be part of the curriculum.