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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required (Christmas mantle, 2023) The End of Innocence I’m about to begin reading Don Quixote which will be a first for me, but I know its gist, and how it’s both the first modern and greatest novel to ever come out of Spain, and how it’s celebrated still almost 500 years later. And that makes me wonder in an age of reason that has moved far beyond myth and fantasy, at least myths that don’t support the modern fantasy, what is its enduring appeal? Perhaps it’s as simple as the end of innocence which we all know from our youth, an innocence which embraces magical thinking as an expected norm, and lays down memories that haunt us for life; memories of cracks in the sidewalk and monsters in the dark. But the really interesting thing is how short our childhoods actually are, at least for those of us who live to an average age, and yet how lasting those formative years can be. This is what defines us after all, what we aim to grow out of, and what determines how we do it. But sometimes I get a glimpse of my earliest memories and they aren’t magical or fantastic at all they are instead of the simple things, the sense of hot and humid air, the melody of voices, and feel of a soft cheek on mine. The magical and fantastical comes later as our imagination grows and we begin to think trying to make sense of it all with our own novel tale. Winter is almost here, with Christmas close behind, and in this time of dark, as magic and mystery rules, the child in us all stirs, expectant in our innocence, blissful in the ignorance of its passing. Wondering even now, at the wonder of it all. (12/18/23)
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