I have been thinking a lot about magic.There is so much freedom to write when you don’t know who is reading, I guess, Or more accurately, when you don’t really tell anyone you’re writing.

I like the magic of sending words out into the world and not knowing who they will land on. I believe that some things are magic, like the ocean and the stars  Tiny, sometimes invisible plankton create almost all the air we breathe. How is that not a thing that blows our minds daily? Our oxygen comes from the ocean. I know it’s also science, the way celestial navigation is also math, preventing it from being too romantic.  They co-exist- the logical and the romantic; the head and the heart.

But the ocean. The very idea that we have not yet explored every inch of it or even come close is wild. sunset canoe
Jacques Cousteau and Sylvia Earle are absolutely incredible in my world.
has been an oceanographer for 50 years, starting in a time when women didn’t do that. I am drawn to their observations the way I am drawn to my friends that I consider ocean people.

Ocean people are different. Everyone I’ve met who loves it as much as I do has a quality that feels to me like magic. They are film camera people. They are old, well-loved sweater people. They are coffee even if it’s night people. They are people who jump just to see what falling feels like.
The fact that you can be connected to people because you are both drawn to the same beautiful and occasionally violent force is something I value very much.

I think meteor showers must be magic. Even though I’ve never seen one and sometimes feel like people are playing a trick on me and even though I know what they actually are. The fact that people from all over the world gather to sit outside and stare up at the sky full of hope is a gesture that is so sweet and surprising to me.


I took this by accident when a Portuguese Navy friend was doing his Forrest Gump impression and driving me nuts and we were all laughing

So many moments in my life have had a flavor of magic. Looks from people where I knew what they meant even if they didn’t say it. The time a homeless guy asked me if I played the trumpet as I was getting on a city bus. When I said no, he laughed incredibly loud and shouted “well you got that thing on your lip, so I thought you did!” He ran away and I spent the rest of the day figuring out why my apparently oddly shaped mouth brought him to fits of laughter. I once made eye contact with a lemon shark while I swam in his tank. They have hypnotic, weird little eyes. This year, I asked privately for a whale for my birthday. My friend got me a copy of Moby Dick. Then three days later, I saw a whale on bow watch. Coincidences. Little twists of fate that have you meet someone you should have meet a thousand times when the time is actually right. I have forgotten lately, to look for these little buds of magic. Usually I am really open to things like that, wandering around with my mind cracked wide open in the hopes that some will seep in.

Sometimes I forget to in the face of sad things or heavy news. I’ve had enough of that for a while.  think that for the next little bit, I will focus on the good and the beautiful; the stupid jokes and the spontaneous fits of laughter. Busting someone singing when they thought they were alone. The good stuff.

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