This week’s thought-provoking whatsit took me completely by surprise. I was walking along, minding my own business, when wham out of the blue I was remembering in vivid detail a passage from one of my favorite books, Spindle’s End by Robin McKinley.
The first line really says it all:
The magic in that country was so thick and tenacious that it settled over the land like chalk-dust and over floors and shelves like slightly sticky plaster dust.
-Spindle’s End by Robin McKinley
I was walking along with the kids, thinking wonderful fall thoughts of soup, cashmere, and perhaps the first mug of hot cider of the season, when this phrase floats through my head…
…and suddenly I notice that the rather weak beam of dappled sunlight has motes of dusty light dancing among the half seen shadows, and it’s as though I can almost see the whimsical gust of magic that should be guiding such an intriguing display.
Everywhere I looked after that, the words echoing in my mind, I seemed to see tiny secrets written by magic hands- whether it was the most intricate tracings of our first frost on my window pane, or the perfect miniature spirals on a nearly microscopic shell my daughter found who knows where…
I always love Ms. McKinley’s writing, but this week, even I was astonished at where her words led me.