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[shadows_gallery]

Sometimes urban life just seems to seep all the magic from life.  It's such a contrast to living in a California forest where the trees loom into the sky like creatures from a faery tale, where the granite cliffs shimmer golden in the moonlight.  Here, there is concrete and metal and burning rubber.  Here, twisted steel and glass monoliths spring from the earth to cast shadows in crisscrossing inks spiderwebbing the roads below.  Here, old houses tremble and sigh with memories as paint flakes and wood creaks.  

Here, the magic lurks in the dancing shadows between alleys, in the brilliant green flash of leaf that tears defiant through concrete.  Here, you see from the corner of your eye as it laughs and flits and spins an erratic, primal dance that tugs at some long forgotten genetic memory.  Here, it touches your dreams in ephemeral splashes of color that fly beyond human sight.

I'm reaching for my muse again.  She's there, see?  Right there!  Just out of sight, unless you walk sideways and gaze with the peripheral.