It is the belief in everyday magic that keeps the young innocent. To get such a feeling, we would have to revive fogged recollections of our sweetest childhood memories. I thought the best place to start could be a garden, a cheerful oasis in the urban desert of gloom.
The summer has gifted this scene decoration of fluorescent lights, disco balls and bubble making machines mounted high on trees. The fidgety airborne spheres, some of which are still visible in the first plane, left trails of their short existence before literally disappearing into thin air. The night has given way to an explosion of color, moving shadows and wicked reflections.
I let the peace of a green universe promote new qualities to my tired soul, while enjoying a cicada choir humming melodies to the gentle skies.
Magic still lives, I am glad to say.