Swaying gently in the idle night while the rain gently patters ‘gainst the pane a few arms lengths away, as the pacific northwest is like to do. It speaks to me like the Sound and Ocean do. Rhythmic patter like a melody flowing in the night.
I’m not the only magicmaker in the pacific northwest by far, but while i open my water bottle and idly play with beads and strings of water floating through the air while enjoying the silence before sleep… magic isn’t for standing out, magic is for us.
This place called to me long before the tribe of glowy animalfolk pattering paws gave me more of a reason while they gathered with the dulcet melody of companionship, finding time among chaos… space among clutter… each other among impossibility.
Water is my magic, as i hear it flow through gutters and across this vibrant land as it courses through my veins and soul… water of here and Elsewhere. Beads and strings of weightless water shimmering to the glow of streetlight while the world sleeps
Water that gave life to everything. Of which this life and experience was born of them. Waters of the northwest and waters of Halcyon... sweet duality and the water in between, breaching back and forth in those liminal waters, spinning ever round in blissful style.
I am not the only magicmaker in the pacific northwest be far, but i am here and i feel it all like i never have before.
[💙🌊🌟]
@Oneironott hecking relatable.