Magic is all around us, we have but to learn to see it.  When we step outside with a thousand things on our minds, we miss all that is present around us in the now.  But if we stop, let go of all the mind clutter, and look closely to what surrounds us, be present, take time to look, then we begin to see that magic.

ON this morning, the garden spider has built a web from fence to tree that spans the width of the Koi pond. I am amazed that he could span such a distance, yet there he is, right in the center of his creation.  He is the size of a silver dollar.  Just the fact that he has managed to accomplish such a feat feels magical.  I always know I’m being given a life-message when I walk out to something so rare as this.

“When spider weaves his way into your life it is time to weave your dreams into reality. Spider speaks to those who are the keepers of their own destiny. Spider gives you balance to walk in the world with ease.”  This is the message I find when I look into my totem animal book.

I walk into my studio and stand, looking out onto the dew-glistening garden.  The sunshine makes it sparkle as if it is sprinkled with diamonds.  My spirit is lifted, and I know this will be a good day.  A wave of gratitude washes over me.

I take a moment to enjoy the colorful Koi as they explore the pond.  Having heard me walk by they are looking for their food.  I smile and find the fish food jar; the Koi get excited as I sprinkle pellets on the surface.  There are two of the larger fish that are pure golden orange, another is mottled with black, gray, and gold, while a third is so dark it is difficult to see.  I’ve named them Elois, Abelard, St. Franciss, and Kierkegard.  Surrounding the large fish are three medium-sized, one gold, two dark, and two new babies, all dark.  I watch them darting for the pellets.  It is a sign the pond is healthy when new fish are born.

Koi are symbols of good luck, strength, and perseverance.  They know my voice and always come to the water’s edge when I speak to them each morning.  I stand and watch them for a while.  They remind me to find that calm place at the deep center and to go there when the surface is tossed from storms. 

I put away the fish food and take a seat in the old rocker that was Mom’s.  I refreshed it with a checkerboard pattern of paint on the flat surfaces and used metallic blue, green, and gold to decorate the spindles.  A fake Alpaca fur covers the cushions.  It is fun and very comfortable.  From this seat I think of Mom as I look out onto my back garden and enjoy all the magic.  I miss her.  The last years of her life I called her each morning, often from my studio.

A brilliant red cardinal lands on the bridge that arches over the creek.  For a few minutes, cocking his head from one side to the other, he eyes the pool of still water below him.  Finally, he hops in, splashing water all around.  This is his morning bath.  I see him here often.  His mate sometimes joins him.

I’ve carried a cup of coffee to the studio with me; I am warmed inside and out, holding the hot cup with both hands as I sip.  I am blessed by this moment, holding, sipping, and looking out into the lushness of the garden.  The irises are profuse this early spring morning.  Their blues, purples, yellows, and whites seem to dance with the soft breeze.  The ajuga covers the ground with spikes of light blue violet, and here and there a pale pink tulip rises toward the sun.  It is as if my heart rises with the flowers.  They are so briefly beautiful it almost hurts to look at them closely.  The word “bittersweet” comes to mind with the thought that life itself is so beautiful and yet so brief.

Each morning as I walk through the garden to the studio I am blessed with a fresh dose of magic.