Magic lives out there, and we can experience it every day if we allow ourselves to stop and notice it.
Rushing out of the grocery store to find a warm night with salt hanging heavy in the air. I want to stay out and revel in it, but home is the practical destination.
That moment before work, when the sun is dazzling with its blue skied purity, and all the world is fresh and young, when all possibilities feel within reach.
And then the day starts and all hope and wonder die a quick little death. Predictability is a plague.