For some reason, having my hands in warm running water while looking out my kitchen window at the first signs of spring reminded me of my friend Elizabeth’s house in Bolinas, California. Maybe it was the way the wind was tossing the branches of trees around in the sun, reminding me of that bright, blustery coastline. Maybe that combined with the warm water and reminded me of sitting in her hot tub that looks out over the ocean. I felt a wave of longing to go back and be in that magical place again. And then, a realization dawned. The last time I was there, it didn’t feel magical. It was last Christmas. Had the chill in the air and flat silver light of winter been to blame? I turned my mind back to the mornings curled up warming hands around heavy mugs of tea as we sat in our pjs along her window seat, looking down through rain splattered glass to the roiling waves beneath her cliff. Another surge of longing, loving longing. So why? Why had I been grumpy, slightly annoyed – at best slightly numb – throughout my most recent weeks there, in spite of being surroundedWhen The Magic Is Gone – by Naomi Janzen