A Touch of Magic

The night was as if in possession of a life of it's own, alive with an infectious spirit of adventure, embracing all with its touch.

The sky was cloudless, crystalline in clarity. A cold light cast by a multitude of stars, filtering through the warmth of the night air. The night in its youth, the moon not yet arisen. A gentle breeze off the water, caressing all it touches with fingers feather soft.

A night to become part of, to touch, to bare the spirit and body to its freedom. To let the mind expand and roam free. To feel the light of the stars, the gentle breeze, the caress of the waves, to swim feeling the water flow over every part of your body, teasing, gently tickling, almost titillating in its touch. Alive, part of the night, the body free of restraints, and the mind set loose to explore, to dream. A return to the shore, muscles tired yet relaxed, the warm night air gently drying the water from your skin and hair.

In a state of complete relaxation that verges on euphoria, yet feeling so totally alive and part of everything and everyone around you. The realization that you have not been alone in this communion with the night has just now come to your attention, yet only adds to the experience this night has brought. What would have caused you some alarm if you had been aware of the others or they of you, now just seems a natural part of what has conspired, a sharing of the living night, sharing awareness of things wonderful and natural without shame or guilt. A touch of lost Eden before the apple.

The moon rises, turning night to almost day, with a brilliance of pure white light, captured by the waves and broken on the shore in a shower of thousands of sparkling droplets and absorbed by the sand. Areas of light, others of stark black shadow knife edged in their definition, as if stenciled on the land.

A night of seeming magic, laid stark and bare like those it touched and caught in its snare. The ancient goddess of the Wicca has made her slow walk across the sky. A pale gray light is touching the eastern horizon, time's passage bringing an end to the night. The magic, madness, clarity of thought being chased from existence with the coming of the light. Coverings beckon, homes calling, sleep seeking, time to hide things from sight. Eden over yet once again, with time all things come to an end. Bodies rushing, shadows blurring, vision obscuring with the breaking of the day, sense of wonder at what has transpired, smiles forming the magic gone, but not forgotten, a return to routine of living with the knowledge of life.