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The Grand Adventure

The places I’ve been

The magic I’ve seen.

The beautiful, amazing, fantastical adventures I’ve had.

Where have I been? You ask.

I’ve watched the full moon rise over the hilltops, dressing the henge in its magical glow as druids and common folk swayed to and fro.

I’ve been to the depths of the ocean to peer through a portal into the ethereal world of fishes and turtles and corals and sharks.

I’ve strolled along the cobbled streets lined with chalk-white cottages and been swept away by a band of strolling musicians.

We feasted and laughed, drank and danced neither talking the others’ language, yet understanding that we are human and alive and today is all that matters.

The places I’ve been,

The beauty I’ve seen.

You wouldn’t believe the journeys I’ve had.

Drifting along the Amazon basin watching mermaids with their little pink, wet noses poking up and breathing sighing through the holes on their backs.

Clouds float across the green canopy, dressing me in thousands of tiny jewel tears as I look out and marvel at the majesty of the world, tears gently slipping down my cheeks.

Sitting in the tent, the chef preparing our meal as I gaze out across the ancient amphitheater and watch the roiling clouds swell and boil on the far mountains as they are shredded by the jagged cliffs.

The places I’ve been,

The joy I’ve seen.

You wouldn’t believe the adventures I’ve had.

I watch out the front window as the little old lady raises her cane to whack the back of a cow who is nibbling on her flowers.

People shuffle past and cars swerve as the cow lazily looks up with daisies dripping from its mouth.

Gnomes are hidden, children are giddy, men are tipsy, let the hunt begin.

We trundle down the paths following the clues, screaming with glee when a little red or blue hat is found tucked behind a tree or sat atop a stone.

The places I’ve been,

The mystical I’ve seen.

You wouldn’t believe the magic I’ve witnessed.

Drifting off to sleep in the ancient keep, a raucous awakes me.

I stumble to the window and peek through the curtains to find a riotous parade has wound its way into the plaza beneath my window.

Painted faces, feathery costumes, tall stilts, and tumbling pins, the cacophony of laughter and shouts of ‘huzzah’ rise into the night to greet me.

To my surprise, Mardi Gras has arrived.

The low hum and the earthy scent drift out from the altar as we quietly slip off our shoes.

The reverent presence of the universe in all its glory greets us as we light our scented sticks, say our prayers, and humbly press them into the sand at the base of the statue.

The calls of the sellers and the scents of the cooking pots fill the air as our boat bobs along gently jostling its way through the market.

Rugs, scarves, dishes, teacups, melons, fish, it is all here and available floating lazily, waiting patiently to be swept up by me.

The places I’ve been,

The faces I’ve seen.

You wouldn’t believe the magical, mystical adventures I’ve had and those that are yet to come.



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Catherine Malli-Dawson

Catherine Malli-Dawson

Writing enthusiast, mindfulness coach, working on a sci fi trilogy