Magic Moments

My story of deepest Africa, a couple of days ago, brought back a flood of memories. One of the overriding ones is of the long journey we made over a couple of days to the coast. The only tape in the car was of the old crooners.

So there we were, a group of teenagers, singing along to the most un-cool songs imaginable. It included Magic Moments by Perry Como which I can, of course, still sing perfectly from start to finish!

The song reflects how fortunate I am in seeing a magic moment or two even on a dull, grey, day like today when that fine rain my family call smizzle, (although I think the correct term is mizzle,) soaked me through several times.

The dry autumn has meant that there have been hardly any fungi, yet today the fields were unexpectedly flourishing with tiny little toadstools. On closer inspection, with the drops of rain sparkling on the grass they provided both my blip and a magic moment.
I don't think they are liberty caps - also known as magic mushrooms, but if they were, I know one or two people who would be rushing to gather them.

I confessed a while back to a good friend that I had never indulged in any illicit substances, although they were rife within my group of friends during my late teens - and in deepest Africa. I think I was just scared of being out of control.
D said it was time for me see what I'd missed out on and came round one evening recently, with something to smoke.

Well! After just three drags I was clinging on to the kitchen sink, planting a pizza tree, feeling Moby Dick, talking to Hugh and Rolf, having a psychedelic yawn and talking on the big white telephone. He, on the other hand, was feeling slightly mellow and giggling at my antics. An hour later he headed for home, while I continued to cling to the sink with the world spinning far too fast for my liking.

I'll stick to joie de vivre, thanks, and be very grateful that I don't need any additional help.