There is such a magic to the way this world coexists. It doesn't matter what you call it. Whether it is aliens speaking to you in the night, or the still soft voice of God at your side, or the peace of finality, the sweet release of acknowledging your smallness. Smallness that is so vast. In you is all the turbulence of the wind as it sweeps across the grass stripping it bare. In you is the burning histories of a thousand myths told and untold and retold. In you the spirit of war and the spirit of love. You are so small, yet here you are, with all of that. There: that is the magic.
Words and images by Charlotte O’Neill