M is for Magic

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Well of course M is for Magic! What else would it be for?

The sort of magic I’m talking about is everyday, mundane magic that most people don’t even notice, which is a shame. It’s a question of looking and listening.

Can you hear water giggle? If you walk by a stream or river can you make out the different voices there? I had a lovely conversation with some water spirits the other day when the inlet pipes on the ford were blocked. A vortex had built up over each one and they were singing in turn, sometimes quite menacing, deep, gurgling sounds that were meant to remind me that water can be dangerous. This is the same ford that nearly ate one of my dogs when he fell in and his back end was sucked into the pipe. Only his Dad grabbing his collar while I leapt in and grabbed the dog’s back end to heave it out and up, back onto dry land, stopped him being sucked down into the pipe and drowned.

Other parts were chuckling to remind me that when it is very hot I can sit on the ford and dangle my feet in the water, cooling my toes and splashing like when I was little.

Maybe that is the secret; littles understand magic. They are not surprised to find either fairies or dragons in the garden. It is only grown-ups who make them doubt their own eyes.

I’m not in the least bit astonished when the “lizards” in my garden come out to talk to me and tell me of their past as dragons and how they had to shrink to protect themselves from humans. When I find a tiny little dragon in my bathtub I pick him up very gently and chat to him as we go out to the back and I put him down in the greenery.

Now just look. Have you ever noticed that herons do the most fantastic impression of undertakers? They stand looking solemn and I just crack up. Spirit has a sense of humour. If you doubt me, go watch some ducks. Doesn’t matter how beautiful and iridescent they are, they open their beaks and make this ludicrous noise, as if Spirit couldn’t allow them to be that beautiful and sing well too.

I have a garden full of birds and I adore them. They know us and they scold us constantly. I love the magic of standing under my willow tree listening to a Great Tit  telling me off because the bird feeder is empty, or just because she wants to come and feed and I am standing in the way.

I’m not sure it it’s magic or for real but I have an affinity with bumble bees; they are flying teddy bears. I rescued one once when I was dinghy racing. Seeing a bumble bee struggling on the water, I tacked the boat over and leaned out to grab it. Once dried, it flew off and I have always been able to ask them to come and sit on my hands. Magic? Maybe … or perhaps they just remember a kindness done to them. Maybe that in itself is magic.

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