Magic happens, even when you're on the Internet

I am sitting here now, on the back porch of the clubhouse, where I come once or twice a week to do that thing called "checking email." It is one of those perfect late July days: the sky is flawlessly blue, there's a soft breeze that I can both hear and feel, and honestly, it's not too hot.

Here's what I can see:

Over in the field, so many small things flying in big looping circles around each other...they turn out to be dragonflies, hundreds of them. They move toward me; it must be a migratory flock. Big red dragonflies. Oh, my goodness, so beautiful. (Did you see _Pan's Labyrinth_? It's nothing like real life). Now they are gone. I'm glad I was here.

Above me (artifice to support the reality) are two hummingbird feeders. As I've sat here, a regular rotation of hummingbirds comes by to feed. They chirp to catch my attention. The last one a vivid green. I recall once, when I was living in the A-frame, how a hummingbird got trapped inside the glass, beating its wings against the window up near the peak of the roof. I was terrified my cat would catch it (the cat was rapt, watching it, one end of its tail flicking), so I climbed up and caught the hummingbird and took it downstairs to release it. It was weightless, and when I opened my hand, gone in half a second. Nothing but a flicker.

Now there's the tiniest skink I've ever seen, watching me from under the porch railing--black with white stripes and a long long tail. Maybe Gloria can tell me what it really is. I don't know skink from gecko, but I do know magic.

And all I"m doing is checking my email!