I suppose… deep inside … most of us have a faint hope that we will stumble on magic when we travel… but unfortunately most of what we discover is what we’ve left behind. Perhaps we don’t see it at first… Shrouded by unfamiliar colors, aromas, and sounds, initially we think we’ve landed on a planet within a solar system very different from our own…

Gradually, it becomes clear that the frankincense and myrrh is really only smog and the smoke from old charcoal stoves. Not even exotic stoves… just cheap ones made with little imagination because they are easy to make and sell quickly.

Yet, the memories of childhood don’t lie. Magic exists. It did then, so somewhere, it’s still alive… hiding like hobbits in a hole behind a couch somewhere in an apartment where a warm-hearted old lady is busy making tea. Somewhere, the hole that Alice fell through can still be found. The maddening question is … where?

The magic… is still there… and yes, you will hear a strange little man playing an accordion as you deliciously fall in love with some exotic lady who plays a Spanish guitar for you… and from somewhere a magical chocolate covered pastries appear on a China saucer so intricate in design that you lose your breath as heretofore unknown flavors explode in your mouth and once again… you smell it…

The frankincense and myrrh returns… and you know that in your stillness, you lost your tomorrows and your yesterdays … and allowed… magic … again… to occur.