February 21st, 2016

(no subject)

More and more I see a gap between magic as described in fiction and magic as described in the historical courts of England. If someone accused another of sorcery, they're far more likely to be looking for a lost object or wishing someone to love them back than they are to be overthrowing the throne and conquering the world. It makes me very thankful that so many of our lives are so very small, and more than amused that our imaginations are so very big... as long as it's not our lives we imagine. Most people live small lives by choice, I think, and want to find their lost keys are true love far more than they want to change all dross into gold or ride the wind.

(And I'm doing more thinking than reading right now due to a niggling migraine - summer is ending and the weather is explaining this very precisely to my body.)