Wishes...

This is a partial view of my mother's garden.
It is a magical place. One of the neighbors even thinks that fairies live there. I used to think the same thing. When I was 15 my grandma came to live with us. Her new residence became the walls of my room. My new space became the back porch and when I needed a little alone time I would crawl up into the top of that lusciously, leafy, apple tree at the back of the garden--hidden--sometimes catching a glimpse of the neighbor boy's cousin that I thought was so cute. I used to wish that boy was in love with me. Since that time I think I've made 1000 such wishes. Today I just wished that It wasn't so hot, that I didn't feel tired, & at one point that life didn't feel so dang overwhelming when I think too much about the future.

*Sigh*
Wishes can be a dangerous thing.
Dangerous because they blind me to the magic of moments I'm currently living.

Tonight my little niece KT ran up to me and said with all the exuberance that little child possessed; "Come here! I want to show you something!" We carefully walked to the back of the garden, her head wagging from side to side in concentration. We walked along the side of the fence, careful to step around the prickly weeds. Then through a couple of rows of dill and bush beans when she spotted them--
"Wishing plants!" she squealed. She made a wish. If you look carefully you can see miniature fairies floating on the wind. Blowing on a "wishing plant" at sunset is magical. Making a wish for someone else is sweet. I captured that brilliant moment in the back garden and then KT turned me and asked:

"Janae, when is your birthday?"