“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”

– W.B. Yeats

Spring is a magical time.

Life returns after a long sleep.

We took a hike on a little-known trail the other day.

Our path led us up the side of the mountain and round a bend, right beside an elk cow nearly ready to calve.

With wonder the girls watched the calf stretching the sides of her belly.

We left her in peace and walked on our way.

We love to go slow.   We love to go slow.

The magic of grass and water and all eternity in one moment is irresistible to us.

With each passing year, my girls see it more clearly.  Each season we spend in a life-after-rush existence is all the more appreciated.

If we would have been in a hurry, we would have missed the snails.

Hundreds upon hundreds of them, silently crawling through the grass and rocks.

Most shells filled with slimy, magical life.  Some empty and left for a beautiful memory.

It was a quiet day, truly wonderful.  We didn’t go nearly as far as we had planned.  There was no need.

We climbed back down.

We passed the mama, resting in the grass as the sun descended.

Things can be wonderful.  One of the greatest blessings of my life has been learning to slow down.

Only then have I learned the magic of ordinary things.


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