The Magic Window

I’ve written before about my magic Moroccan door, whose cobalt blue color wards off evil spirits. Actually, it’s just the back door to my kitchen, but I have found that life is happier when I filter it through my imagination. So imagine my surprise to find that I also have a magic window, tucked away in a remote area of our basement. It’s in an alcove where Jim stores his tools, and such is my relationship to saws and screwdrivers that this alcove is like a little outpost of a foreign country in our home. The other day, driven by the desperation of a domestic emergency, I went looking for a pair of pliers, and found myself gazing through this magic window. The four o’clocks, instead of looking slightly tattered from the drought as they really are, looked like sea flowers yearning for the sun, enveloped in mist, and altogether otherworldly. I had just been reading the world news, and seeing something otherworldly felt good, however unrealistic. So where some might see a window that badly needs some Windex and a paint scraper, I see something magical, but again, I have found that life is so much happier when we sweeten it with our imagination.

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6 thoughts on “The Magic Window

  1. And such an imagination is yours, Fran! It’s a blessing to you and your audience! I think this is my favorite post of yours, because I can see the beauty through that window, too. It feels misty; serene; and, at once, ancient and timeless. Thank you!

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