Remembering the Magic

Oh, my little son was up so late last night!  I really should have pressed him to go to bed earlier, but there’s a reason he was up so late that made me change my mind and allow him to take all the time he needed – he was experiencing magic, my friends!

Because, you see, after all the cold weather yesterday, a heavy fog settled outside.  I’ve talked to my boys about fog before, but around here, it usually rolls in at dawn and is gone soon after daybreak.  So they’ve never really seen it at an age where they could appreciate it… until tonight.

My intention was only to show him how late it was and how he should be sleeping.  I said: go, look out the window!  It’s the middle of the night, see how black the sky is?  and he went dutifully over to see for himself.  But when we lifted the blinds and saw that a huge cloud had settled on the ground right outside our window – oh, it was better than Christmas!

I’m lucky that my family all have voicemail, because my little boy wanted to call everyone he could think of.  And as I listened to him leave voicemail after voicemail, I couldn’t help but wonder, as I always do, at the absolute joy and amazement of childhood.

“Guess what?” he cried triumphantly into the phone.  “I’m SO happy!  Today’s my happy day!  There’s a fog outside!  There’s a fog!  Do you see a fog too?  Well, bye!” click.  Who wouldn’t smile at hearing such a joyful message like that early on a Tuesday morning?

For me though, my wonder and amazement came not from the fog outside, beautiful as it was; but from the fact that I’ve lost the appreciation for a simple fog on an autumn evening.

Rather than seeing its exquisite beauty; the amazing simplicity of a passing mist, I instead focused on wondering how traffic would be in the morning if it doesn’t lift, or how humid it was outside and whether or not it was warmer or cooler because of it. Oh, the realities of adulthood can really deprive one of magic, aren’t they?  … if you let it.

So I decided to let him be the teacher for the rest of the night.  I reveled in his joy with him, and made trip after trip to the window, and back to his bed, and back to the window yet again when his excitement and exuberance couldn’t be contained any longer.

Of course I can’t speak for everyone, but I do indeed remember the magical feeling that a low rolling mist brought to me as a child – everything seemed washed in mystery; the moon was just a blurred starlight speck in the sky, and I could easily pretend that there weren’t any houses or buildings around – that it was just me and the world… who knew what magical or frightening creatures I would encounter on my long journey (from the front yard to the back) in this cloudscape I was wandering through?

I can learn a lot from my young son.  I may be his teacher by day, but he teaches me lessons that aren’t taught in any books.  He teaches me to remember where I used to find the magic, and where I can find it again.  He’s an amazing little boy, and I’m a lucky Mama to have him in my life.

~ Mellie ★