I believe in magic. Well, not what most would consider magic; no witches, goblins, broomsticks, or potions for me. No, instead I believe magic has transformed into something we all consider mundane and take for granted. Magic, for me, is science.
Is it not true, though, how the magic we found as children transforms into scientific knowledge as we grow? The flowers we frolicked in were once captivating yearly visitors, color explosions overwhelming our eyes. It was magic that they returned year after year just for you. Now we know them as matter constructed of water and glucose. They run off of photosynthesis, chlorophyll dueling Apollo to paint the world green. It is fascinating that you and the flower are basically the same. All you see, feel, touch, smell, and taste are constructed with atoms, electrons, protons, neutrons; we’ve all been sculpted into various shapes and sizes by the scattering of the universe, as if throwing sand into the wind.
The birds we envied for their wings are suspended by gravity, thermals, and momentum. We too now fly in the form of planes and space shuttles, soaring higher than we can dream, where there is no gravity or air, where colored marbles of all sizes adorn the heavens. Even when we are still and weary from our adventures the world still spins, careening us forward at speeds faster than all our human machines can attain. Modern potions, compared to what we would concoct as children with Elmer’s glue and pudding, are now used to heal people, we call it medicine. Even the magic of love can be found in science. Something as complex and intricate as the human mind and emotions are based on chemistry, bonding, smell, sight, sound, neurons firing at the speed of light; they all cast their spell drawing two people together, magnetic.
Life itself is magical. The universe is dictated by entropy, a desire to become disordered. As the universe spreads it disperses matter, things become stretched, and time slows. Despite this rule, still, pockets of life occur, defying the laws of the universe. Life is ordered, complex, intricate, and vast making me feel that I am a miracle in myself. I am a glowing light upon a Christmas tree. But, better yet, think of all life forms as glimmering lights. The earth would look like a busting city at night, lit up, dazzling, and evoking the envy of those who look upon it, leaving the poets wordless, and the artists empty-handed in awe. One need not wave a wand to find the magic they seek but merely open their eyes. To think that we give something so beautiful and complex a name like science and yet we hardly even know what we have found.
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