Magic Survives

I've never believed in magic, at least not since I was old enough to understand that the guy in the top hat wasn't really sawing the woman in half. Even though this position has often put me out of step with my Christian and Pagan family and friends. I'm a rationalist.

But a spark of magic endures, and I'm willing to make room for it in my life.

Right now I'm sitting on my front porch, as twilight is fading into darkness. And as I look out across my yard and across the street, I see examples of this magic. For an instant here and an instant there, I see the flare of a firefly. And I can't help feel there's something magic happening.

I know that there's a perfectly rational biochemical explanation for what I'm seeing. I don't remember any of the details, but I've read an explanation of what causes a firefly to light up like that. It's quite sensible. But it's still magic.

I can imagine how people of previous eras saw fireflies. Particularly if you were to look at them without any understanding of bioluminescence, or even without knowing that they're insects, it'd be oh so easy to imagine them as tiny faeries, or some other magical phenomenon.

But even knowing otherwise, as I watch these sparks of light blink to life and just as quickly fade away, I still feel a similar spark of the giddy wonder that gripped me when I first saw them as a child, or that must have inspired my scientifically challenged forebearers. That something so small can shine so brightly, even for just moments at a time, is still startling. That it can do so without benefit of alternating current, alkaline batteries, or even NiMH rechargeable cells is still amazing. The fact that such things still exist here on a busy street, in the inner city, during the 21st century, is comforting.

And the simple beauty of it... is magic.