November 2010
When the word magic is mentioned, I am sure every ones first thought is a Winter Wonderland: they can imagine the sun, rising from the east, shining onto the pure white snow, making it appear as though the earth is covered in diamonds; the snow covered leaves, that are now quite sparse, remind you of little angels dancing around, if you try hard enough; you may even visualise two little Robins having fun in the snow. . . But then, you think on: the snow covered leaves will burst into life on that old tree, and if you look at the base of that old tree, you will see uneven circles of tiny white snowdrops, pushing their way up through the earth to meet the sun. You wonder how long it will be before the crocuses replace them, resplendent in their clear bright colours.
Later of course, our old tree will have the company of the pretty bluebells; you may wonder about the old tree itself, you may want to feel it's bark - I suppose it will feel cold to the touch, so you may want to put your arms around the old tree and give it a hug, but the tree's girth is too large for your hands to meet, so you may just give that old tree a kiss instead.
So that is my definition of a magic place, but I think, a relation of magic is miracle, and I think the four seasons themselves are miracles.