Natural Magic

There is a magic to life.  Of this I am sure.  It comes and goes.  As we get older it shifts its shape, and its infrequency seems to increase.

But I remember magic being everywhere when I was child.  It was there when I built a dam in the neighborhood creek, and also when I ate my first bowl of Lucky Charms.  It was there when I knocked on a friend's door and asked "Can Nate come out to play?"  When I was a child, holidays meant something, snow was a good thing, the world was full of mystery, swimming pools were immense fun, and friends were relatively loyal.  Kids would stay out all day until bedtime.

There's magic in riding a bike, in chasing down the ice cream truck, in playing kickball in the cul-de-sac, in not even knowing what a cul-de-sac is, instead simply calling it "The Circle."  As a child, few ideas are stupid.  Fireworks are amazing.  Birthdays are a cause for celebration.  Money is a privilege, not a necessity.  And you only really need enough to purchase an Icee on a bike trip to AmeriStop.  An allowance of five dollars every two weeks is more than enough.

There's magic in the week before school starts, in going out and buying all new supplies, in calling up all your friends to see who's in your class.  There's magic in soccer games, in halftime snacks, in victory soda pops, even in the way your legs are all warm and smelly when you remove your shinguards.  And trophies are cherised possessions, placed prominently on display.

Of course not all is paradise.  Parents get divorced, grandpa dies, the dog attacks your best friend, you slam a tree branch into your sister's eye.  Sometimes your dad wants to wrestle, but most of the time this consists of him simply putting his weight on top of you until you almost suffocate.  And even when you do gain an advantage, he feigns injury until you let your guard down out of concern, and then he gets you.  Sometimes you're afraid of him.  Sometimes you hate him.  Like when he pretends to throw you in the animal cages at the zoo.

Of course you love him as well for taking you to the zoo at all, and to other magical places like the putt-putt course and the arcade.  You don't realize it at the time but you blow tons of his money winning tickets at those arcade games only to use the tickets to purchase prizes worth way less than the money spent.  And yet you get your money's worth anyway from the joy these things give you, because there's a certain magic in having a bouncy ball war with your sister across the kitchen linoleum.