Magic is something that is not seen, but is experienced. It’s not boiling pots and witches. It’s not cloaks, Harry Potter, and the Goblet of Fire. It’s not even made with a deck of cards, trickery, or pulling a quarter from behind an ear. It’s that feeling you get when you experience fireworks on the fourth of July or the sound of giggles and shrills from the near by amusement park at dusk. This is my son staring out the window at the lights of a local carnival. That look on his face gave me the most joyous feeling of happiness and youth. I am young, but I already have too many regrets. More than one needs. He just sits in his car seat with the window down and a warm breeze, innocent, hearing the laughing of kids on the roller coaster, a grin on his face, the purple and green lights reflected off of his skin, and a twinkle in his eye. That’s magic.