Thinking about magic again today, and my owl photograph. Copying Reuben, I started a photoblog yesterday, which allows me to upload one picture a day. I decided to call it everyday magic, on the premise that we are surrounded by magic and I would use photographs to evidence that. Told the Gnome about it and he rather annoyingly said that magic was too broad a brief. And what was magic anyway?

This of course made me try to define it -- not satisfactorily so far. But when something strikes me as magical it is often about strange juxtapositions. Like the painted owl on the bricks, or the twenty santas I saw walking out from Brighton station last December. But I want it to be more than that. I want deep magic too; a childishness. In philosophical terms it is about feeling astonished about being in the world.

Thinking of magic I stepped from the train in front of Reuben. Magic is unexpected and surreal, like the pigeon that flew out at me tonight from the tube train at head height.

A contrast today from the sunset over the river views of yesterday. An ugly view over train tracks at Paddington. But we were taken out for a business lunch/briefing, and walked back from the restaurant in a short hailstorm.