As a child I was raised on nursery rhymes, fairy tales, and stories of saints.  This gave me a sense of belief in the realm of the magical and mystical.  I firmly believed that the veil which separated the visible from the invisible was very thin and could be transcended by mortal souls on rare occasions.  This gave me a love for nooks and crannies; those places which seemed to whisper secrets and be possessed of magic.  I have never outgrown that belief and love of magic places so imagine my delight when I came across just such a magical place in this my new village.  Oh the joy and delight in knowing that each day I can transport myself to a world of mystical wonder just by setting out down this path: 

In this magical land, time stand still and I listen to the symphony that nature provides for me through the instruments of various wild life accompanied by the stringed section of the wind in the trees.  I descend into a verdant wonderland.

The air is filled with an aroma of pungent earthiness swirled with sweet wild rose.  

As I enter the deep growth I often see movement just beyond my peripheral vision and am sure it is fairies and other mythical creatures playing tricks on me. 

At this bridge I scurry across to avoid the toll that the trolls may want to enforce.  I hear them groan at each step I take on the bridge.  This is not the place to tarry.

I happily shared this magical place with my oldest granddaughters and they renamed it Mystic Woods.  They are my cohorts in the search for those elusive mythical beings. 

As I step out the world is much brighter than when I began my journey on this path and my eyes need time to adjust.

Eventually my walk must come to an end and I must go back about the business of daily living.  However, I return to my business of business just a little different.  I know that I carry a sprinkling of fairy dust, a slight coating of that substance that makes the world appear brighter and the heart sing with joy.