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A Joyful Noise

magic

The magic you can’t quite see

January 16, 2020 by Melodye Shore

No matter how vast and dark the world might seem, there’s always a tiny glimmer of hope. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder, that’s all. And believe in the magic you can’t quite see.  

Hummingbirds lay two eggs, on average, and incubate them for about 15-18 days. Mama’s been sitting on her nest for about 20 days now. So if I’ve done the math correctly, she’s probably keeping two hatchlings warm, or will be very soon.

Two, featherless symbols of hope. You can’t see them, cradled as they are in the condo nest that’s situated in a high, dark corner of our tile roof overhang. But you trust and believe, anyway, because when the sun peeks that shadowy space, her iridescent feathers catch fire, igniting your imagination and setting your heart aglow.

Posted in: Hope, Hope the thing with feathers, hummingbird, hummingbird nest, hummingbird nest 2020, magic, writing Tagged: faith, hatchlings, hummingbird, hummingbird nest 2020, magic, nest

Monarch butterfly migration

March 10, 2019 by Melodye Shore

Sometimes circumstances align in a way that feels like pure magic. For example, last Friday, when I was driving home from our garden nursery with three milkweed plants, Mystic Spires salvia, and frilly little fuchsias. As if from nowhere, a flurry of Monarch butterflies drifted into my field of vision. Dozens and dozens of them, floating past my windshield and side view mirrors. When I stopped at a traffic light, they cocooned my car with their colorful wings.

Breathtaking.  To say the least. I’ve seen caterpillars transform themselves into butterflies that emerge from their jewel-colored pendants and take to the sky. I’ve seen overwintering Monarchs that spread their wings in the sunlight and drift away from their clusters. But I’ve never seen so many Monarchs in motion at one time!

Later in the day, that I came to know that the Monarchs are migrating north right now. Lucky me, I got to witness firsthand this amazing phenomenon! Sorry, no photos–I don’t fiddle with my camera/phone while I’m driving. But here’s a quick snapshot of the milkweed that rode shotgun with me. Clearly, I need to get these flowers into the ground, and soon.

Posted in: Butterflies, magic, metamorphosis, milkweed, monarch butterfly, monarch caterpillar, writing Tagged: butterfly, magic, migration, milkweed, monarch, Monarch butterflies

The waning year and a magic wand

December 21, 2018 by Melodye Shore

It was an impromptu game, inspired by a piece of driftwood that was tossed on the beach by the rising tides. Using the ragged edge of the stick, I etched four numbers into the sand, as close to the water’s edge as possible. My goal? To capture images of the vanishing year before the churn washed it away.

Again and again, I played tag with the waves. running backward with my camera aimed low, until my clothes were soaked and my storage card was nearly full.

Ho Ho Ho! It wasn’t until much later, when I finally downloaded the images, that I realized I’d been etching the wrong year into the sand all along!

In recounting this story later, I wonder if this tourist might have something to say about us “crazy locals.”

But this is my story, and in this retelling, the main characters are the wonderfully creative kids from Arizona that I’d met a bit earlier in the day. When last I saw this pair, they were packing wet sand around the edges of a deep hole they’d dug—a fortress against the incoming tides.

When I headed back to my car, they flagged me down. The little girl sat back on her heels so I could admire their handiwork. They’d created for themselves a Sisyphean task, of course, but that wasn’t for me to judge.

I lavished praise on their creative efforts. “Would you like this stick?” I asked. “You never know…it might come in handy.”

By then, the little boy had returned to the job at hand: scooping and packing sand, and repositioning his body when the waves inched close enough to threaten his wall. “Nah, I’m good.”

The little girl hesitated.

I stretched the stick across my open palms—a magic wand now, drenched in seawater and sprinkled with glittery sand.  “How about you?” I asked. “You could write your wishes in the sand and then watch the waves carry them away.”

Her face brightened, lit from within by the dreams she envisioned in her mind’s eye. “Ah,” she said, “I wondered what you were doing.” She scrambled to her feet, brushed the sand off her knees, and reached for the driftwood.

Her eyes sparkled. My heart glowed.

As I headed back to my car, she strode confidently to the ocean’s edge, like a newly crowned monarch with a scepter.

I scrambled over the sand berms, and when I eventually reached the boardwalk, I glanced back at my new friends one last time. The little boy was still hard at work, frenetically digging and forever rebuilding. No time for rest or reflection. He was too busy fortifying his crumbling structure against the inevitable.

But the little girl…ahhh. She was wriggling her toes in the wet sand–a princess in her own realm, wholly immersed in the moment. Time and again, she etched her name into the sand. Time and again, she whispered her wishes into the salty air, and then invited the breezes to carry them out to sea.

Posted in: Holiday, Laguna Beach, magic, magic wand, writing Tagged: 2017, 2018, fortress, magic wand, new year, wall

Fresh magic, offered daily

July 18, 2017 by Melodye Shore

A new day begins, and Mother Nature is once again waving her magic wand.

The stained-glass wings were immediately recognizable,  but it took some sleuthing to identify the powder puff plant. (Nancy Drew’s my alter ego–you knew that, right?)

That sweet little tree is a Calliandra Surinaemensis. Notable for its profusion of pink and white puff balls, it’s also a prolific nectar source. A royal feast for a Monarch butterfly, here and gone in the blink of an eye.

In this moment, a generous sprinkling of magic…and yet another reminder to keep my eyes and heart wide open.

Posted in: Butterflies, calliandra surinaemensis, magic, monarch butterfly, nectar, Powder Puff Tree Tagged: calliandra surinaemensis, magic, monarch butterfly, nectar, powder puff tree

An early Christmas gift

December 20, 2016 by Melodye Shore

On my way to Goff Island yesterday, I happened upon a family reunion. Tourists, probably, drinking in the winter sunshine after savoring a picnic lunch. The women wore modest clothes and hijabs, and the men wore ankle-length, cotton robes.  While the younger children built sand castles, replete with fancy turrets, a teenaged boy –positioned at a distance from his group–dug through the sand, examining and discarding tiny seashell fragments.

I lifted my sunglasses, smiled and waved. They waved back, generous smiles spread across open faces.

I thought I’d read the tide tables right, but Nature keeps her own timetable, doesn’t she? The Island was mostly submerged, so the harbor seals hadn’t yet hauled themselves onto the rocks where they typically congregate.

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The ocean heaved and frothed. Seaweed floated in swirling eddies.  But while I sensed the seals’ presence, I didn’t see any bobbing heads.

However.

In the sheltered cove, where the turquoise waters deposit their treasures, I found a pearly white seashell–exquisitely shaped, perfectly whole.

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I wandered toward the group of children, seashell cradled in my palm; and when I reached the spot where the older boy knelt, I slowly opened my hand.

I saw in his face a kindred soul, someone for whom simple things oftentimes bring about the greatest joy.

I spread my fingers wide, and the seashell spiraled downward. It landed gently in the boy’s lap, as if it were meant to be there, all along.

“Thank you,” he said softly, in beautifully accented English.

You’re so welcome, I thought, but I let my heart do the talking.

It was a quick exchange, no fanfare or fancy wrappings, but it felt to me like a Christmas blessing.

Posted in: beach, Christmas, Gifts from the sea, Goff Beach, goff cove, goff Island cove, Harbor Seals, Laguna Beach, magic, Seashells Tagged: gifts from the sea, goff island cove, harbor seals, sea shells, seals

A special kind of magic

September 27, 2016 by Melodye Shore

I arrived at the beach at mid-tide, because that’s when the harbor seals typically hoist themselves on the rocks. Sometimes, I bring my friends. Sometimes I point them out to tourists. But today, at the mid-point of my friend’s chemotherapy treatments, I went alone.

I wanted to talk with the seals privately, as we’ve done in the past. I felt sure they’d pose for my camera, same as before. I’d send videos to my friend, because the sounds of the ocean are soothing. I’d send snapshots of the seals, as well, because they’re a healing balm for her.

But as luck would have it, “my” typically quiet cove was crawling with tourists. Locals, too, who probably skipped out on work to enjoy the sunny, hot weather. They scrambled over the rocks where the seals usually lounge. They splashed in the tide pools, took business calls at the water’s edge, and snapped endless selfies with squirming, screeching kids.

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I didn’t begrudge them the opportunity to visit this lovely hideaway. Of course not. I don’t expect everyone to approach this outdoor sanctuary with the same reverence that I do. But I confess to a bit of selfishness in wishing I were alone on the beach, for at least a little while.  Seemed to me, this was the only way the harbor seals would make their presence known.

“They don’t always hang out here,” said the tide pool docent, whom I’d never seen before, but with whom I’d shared a brief conversation about starfish and, well, seals. “They have the whole ocean at their disposal,” she said, “not just this one beach.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I said, “But I really think they’ll show up. They always seem to know….”

I watched the incoming waves for the next two hours, but they didn’t pop their heads up, much less come ashore.

P133075720160926

The tide began to surge again, and my parking meter was set to expire. I gathered my belongings, reluctantly so, and left my rocky perch. I was still clinging to the notion that the seals were out there in the surf, but that I’d somehow overlooked them.

P133076020160926

I scrambled across the hot sand, toting my belongings toward the staircase. Stopped. Pivoted. Listened to my intuition, and lifted my camera out of its bag.

I scanned the horizon one more time, index finger on the shutter button. Sure enough: In a peaceful cove, not visible to people scrambling over the rocks…in the water, far removed from the madding crowd…I spied a harbor seal floating past, just as happy as could be.

P133078020160926

He showed up for my friend and for me, I truly believe that. Another gift from the sea, carrying a special kind of magic.

Posted in: beach, california, Gifts from the sea, Goff Beach, goff cove, goff Island cove, Harbor Seals, magic, Nature, Orange County California, September Tagged: california, goff island cove, harbor seals, joy, orange county, seals, tourists

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