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Magical Moments


Anjuli_Bai
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Have you had a special magical moment?

 

This evening I was thinking of one I treasure especiially - and at one time wrote about it.....and thought I'd share it.....forgive me for the presumption.

 

AMPHITHEATER

 

 

I have always been an early riser. Dawn especially beckoned to me when I stayed in a small cabin in the forest. As the sun’s first light peeked through the red-gold Sequoias of Giant Forest, I hastened from a warm bed and stepped out onto the cabin’s porch. The chill sting of the morning air greeted me as I gratefully wrapped my fingers about a cup of warm tea.

 

The wild creatures were already well astir. With a flash of blue, jays sailed through the pine boughs, chattering their daily gossip. A herd of deer streaked around the glade, intent on a morning errand. The tiny inhabitants of the woodland floor chirped and scampered, as they searched for a breakfast snack. I looked up and the sky was no longer dark but not yet blue. A day in the forest had begun. But as much as I welcomed the morning, it was the coming of evening that took my breath away.

 

It was my habit to find a favorite path and sink down on the soft pine strewn earth to view the coming performance. Gone was the dust spangled haze of noon. The giant trees were ranged around a close meadow, present and waiting their cue. About their waists smaller trees grew basking in their own green light. Different shapes, different leaves.

 

But it was the Giant Sequoias that stole the show. I was about to see an event repeated nightly through the ages. Two hundred years before other people had stood or sat waiting as I did now. And a thousand years earlier their ancestors must have stood here, watching the very same trees, overwhelmed by the coming drama. The sun was about to set.

 

And if no one was to see, would it still happen? For the pure joy of it I know it would. Always the Creator would see and cause it to occur. It is not enough for the forest to just be - or procreate - it is crowned with a constantly changing beauty. For our individual particular delight the ordinary sunset becomes a wonder. Be quiet now. The spectacle is about to unfold. The silent music begins.

 

As the sun glided toward the western sky and dropped to the horizon a finger of light slashed through the forest. It pointed to a single ancient Sequoia and bathed it in cloth of gold. In rapture I watched as the tree stood alone, plucked from amongst its fellows; a single performer on a crowded stage. The red tapestry of the tree’s trunk was a glory to see; alight with flame, a fiery torch saluting the setting sun. It seemed as if every living thing must stop to marvel. Slowly the light slid across the surface, every facet of the tree etched in brilliance. But its moment of stardom was transitory and reluctantly it relinquished its fame.

 

The next tree took up the psalm of praise, glowing in an ecstasy of color and so the light moved on to another and another and another: each a silent singer in a chorus of Hallelujah. And, thus the circle of light made the round from tree to tree; a beacon fresh from the sun in an amphitheater of beauty. Each tree, each creature, given its one moment before the coming of night; involuntary participants in the parade of time.

 

It caught me, too. As I stood mesmerized by the sight, night rose about me. I had stayed too long. I was not a creature of the dark. The golden light was now a gloom. The last of the jays settled noisily for the night. Some small creatures went to sleep as others took their places. The mole peeked out from under his log. The once friendly trees now loomed about me, blocking my escape. Or so it seemed.

 

I quickened my steps as the darkness gathered about my feet. Only the very treetops were still alight, reassuring me that all was not yet lost. More and more quickly I ran down the forest path, across the road and finally toward the beckoning light in the cabin window. With a last look over my shoulder at the now threatening forest at my back, I ran up to the porch, into the cabin and closed the door behind me.

 

Copyright - Sheila Orysiek

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Did you ever read Anya Seton's "The Winthrop Woman", Anjuli? She recreates the wonder of the untouched 17th century America and it is beautiful, as is your writing, my dear friend.

 

No, I don't think I have, Fiz.

 

Thank you for your comment

That is truly breathtaking, Anjuli... Beautiful :)

 

Thank you very much, Swanprincess. That forest is truly magical. I had many wonderful - and very magical - experiences there.

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