After I had grizzled about the cold last week, a reader of this blog sent a comment about a nice experience she'd had that day. She was sitting in front of a bandstand in a leafy square in Paris (jealous, anyone?), listening to some music, when a Frenchman asked her to dance. There was nobody else dancing but, still, she happily took up this guy's offer. A magic moment? I bet this reader will remember that spontaneous dance with a stranger for a long time...
Our friend, J, told me that she had a similar few magic moments. When she was younger, a boyfriend took her for a ride on his motorbike. They stopped off at a fish and chip shop. Sitting on the curb, eating those fish and chips, bike and boyfriend beside her, sun beating down, J was radiantly happy. Suddenly, she felt sorry for the Queen who would never get to experience anything as simple as sitting on a curb eating fish and chips out of newspaper.
Sometimes a five, ten, or fifteen minute period in our life has been so wonderful or fulfilling or so humorous that we rate such an experience as high, or higher than any of our overseas trips, posh cars, or designer clothes. Isn't that nice?