GREAT BLUE MAGIC (no astrology)

Hans Thoma - Wundervogel 1892

Beyond the tight boundaries of our hundred-and-eight-acre property, the world was a mystery. Books were carefully controlled, though the political rants of the John Birch Society were plentiful. Television was forbidden. This was an intellectual wasteland.

At school, I had eight classmates, all seemingly related in one way or another. I was the outsider, the one from "away." There was no cultural or intellectual stimulation, no broader world available to explore. The outside world was spoken of with fear and suspicion, something dangerous, something to be avoided.

Most of our food came from the garden we labored in and the animals we raised. Life was stoic, serious. Magic did not exist; the very idea was dangerous.

One day, just an ordinary day, magic revealed itself to me.

As the youngest in a very large family, solitude was hard to come by. I often slipped away when I could, exploring the fields and forests. On this day, I climbed the hill toward the trout pond, hoping no one would follow. I had no expectation of wonder, just a need for space.

As I approached the pond, a sound startled me.

From the rushes at the water’s edge, a massive creature lifted into the air. Its wings unfurled, impossibly large, and its body rose, soaring. For a moment, my startled mind thought I had stumbled into another world. Was this a prehistoric beast, a pterodactyl, a creature from myth?

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