Street magic

I walked out the door last night on my way to choir, and suddenly Barcelona was glittered up for Christmas. Bones festes in swoopy white lights hangs over our street, and trees are lined with soft blue.

And as I headed down into the metro, a square piece of paper on the sidewalk at my feet caught my eye. It caught my eye...because it looked familiar. The handwriting looked familiar: it was mine.

I know there is a logical explanation here--I threw that little scrap away last week after jotting down some translation notes, and it must have fluttered out of the bag when we brought down the recycling, then fluttered along the sidewalk towards the metro.

But discovering my own words on the ground, muddied and splotched and stepped on, but still mine... seemed kind of magical, fitting with the sudden transformation of the street into one lit by Christmas glow.

I'm thankful for Christmas lights and the feeling of magic.