There is something magical about feeling a just laid egg, an egg that is still warm, almost hot to the touch. There is no doubt that it is alive.
There is something magical about fresh snow capping a mountain. It’s nice to see it up there instead of down here. It’s where snow belongs, on the tops of mountains.
There is something magical about chickens out enjoying the sun. After days of clouds, snow, and rain, they are as surprised as I am that the sun still shines. That’s magical too.