The world is so beautiful, if you look.

I didn't NaNo today. I went for a walk instead. It was worth it.

There are plants whose seed pods look like the wings of a white bird, and whose seeds are women in white ball dresses, yards and yard of chiffon with their dark coiffed heads on top. There are red berries with orange flesh, block berries with green flesh, and dark purple berries with juice that is the color "magenta" was invented to describe. There is no more perfect gradation of blue anywhere than in the sky, so very pale at the horizon and deep, true blue straight above. The pond is deep blue, not ocean, but something uniquely freshwater. There are mallards. There is an egg the size of my fist, lying under a bush. I don't know where it came from. There is a place in the woods (cedar and thorns, and things I do not know) where there is a little clear space, and the sun shines through, making the needles glow a warm gold. There are little paths and archways you have to duck to get through. There is waterweed in the brook, flowing gently downstream. There are puddles, and footprints gone before. There are plants loosing seeds as fine and soft as tissues. Somewhere, birds are singing. You can see them, and whistle back, if you want to.

Who ever said you needed a wardrobe to reach Narnia? I've been there today, when I leave the coat I don't need on the path and duck under an arch of branch and bramble into a little clear space, carpeted green and gold, and I can hear the birds.

This is Narnia. This, this is magic.