Like 42.5 million other Americans I traveled more than 50 miles “home” for Thanksgiving, and like so many, our gathering was in a different house than the one I grew up in. My mother sold the big family home and now lives comfortably in a sunny condo. Luckily, many of the artifacts from my childhood settled in as well as she has, including her collection of Madonnas.
When was the last time you wandered off into a forest? I don’t mean a path through a wooded area of your neighborhood park, but a real, honest, forest romp, where the old growth trees touch the bottom of the passing clouds and the ferns cluster down below in earnest abundance. I had such a lovely walk last weekend, with family and friends and a loved pooch, and despite our chatter we surprised a fairy, as she sat upon her leafy throne. No, not a metaphor, a real fairy, on a real fern throne, who, in her surprise, flew in plain view, eyed us cautiously, and then fluttered with her translucent white wings to the treetops, eventually hidden from our sight. Yes, a forest fairy, who clearly crossed our paths for one magical moment, and helped us remember just how lucky we are, to be breathing this vibrant clear air, to be treading this soft earth, and to be cocooned together in such love. All in that split second, our fairy shot right through our city cynicism and acted as a gentle reminder of all that is spectacular in life’s adventures.