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Adopting in Ashburn

What began in France moved to Washington, DC and then the suburbs. Let the adventures in Ashburn continue.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Retreat to Terabithia

I have retreated. Just now. Less than five minutes ago. I am in this place - but it is like Terabithia after the death of the queen, lonely and somehow lacking the full magic.

The Old
In my Terabithia, imagination runs wild. Dreams of the future combine with fantasy and ideal notions to create seredipitous prospects for the days to come. Everything has feelings, the air is charged with a motivational energy. Nothing is impossible. Clouds pass to create cool moments of shade during sunny days. The night is like tonight, with a detailed moon the color of old parchment poised against a faded midnight blue sky. To the west is the wishing star; a single prayer can make dreams come true.

The Now
Overgrown are the acres of flower fields, as long grass pops up among the periwinkle, daffodils, daisies, and strawberries. Trees are covered in a barely green moss that hangs like twisted feathers to dust the shoulders of passersby. There is a presence. Giants once walked here, elves danced, and fairies ran amok. They aren't gone, but it is hard to remember the last time you saw one. Magical whispers blow on the breeze, and soft, wispy clouds make shapes in the blue sky. But it is almost nearly dusk, always. The sun has set but the night has not arrived, and the periwinkle remnants of light fade smoothly into a velvet violet. Glimpses of stars playing hide and seek are made more vibrant by the new moon, invisible in the coming night.

Perhaps my Terabithia is going through a change of season. I can't decide which place is better. I feel comfortable in the Now, but hope for the Old to rush back in tomorrow. Is it missing the Old that makes the Now seem less magical? If magic fits the laws of physics, it can't actually leave a place, just transform into different types of energy. The Old was certainly potential energy with a mixture of kinetic. The Now is like a ball on a pool table that is slowing down, waiting to bounce off a wall and get moving again.

I'm leaving the world of fantasy now. Real work calls. Love always, ~Heather

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