It takes a fortnight or so for the new place to sink it. It is a slow process. It is almost as if you are struck in quicksand and it slowly pulls you in.  It engulfs you. It is not a bad thing. It is something like the coming-of-age process. It takes it time and then suddenly you are in. You discover the beauty of the place around you. You fall in love with the place you moved in. The cynic in me will laugh and say maybe you just accept you are here to stay or maybe you just unwind enough to see the world around you.

Whatever it is – I call it magic. It is a magical moment. You put on your rose-colored glasses. You forget the unpacked boxes, the mess called home, the new routines and the inconveniences. You go gah-gah over the smallest things. You just realize how beautiful life is and how grateful you are to have the opportunity you have.

It happened. I am in love with Gladstone. I will still complain and crib at times but currently I am at that zone – the zone of magic. Feelings of amazement and gratefulness fill me. I see beauty everywhere around me.

The kangaroo that hopped by as I drove this morning was a sight of beauty (instead of complaining how much more difficult and hazardous they made my drive). The strange screeching sounds I heard this morning was that of a yellow-crested cockatoo. It made me squeal in delight. The Galahs on the lines outside made me smile.  Even the quietness outside seemed perfect.

It is love. It is magic. I enjoy the moment. I know I will come crashing to reality soon and grumble about the same things I cherished. But for now, I am content and happy.