I found a lucky penny the other day.
My lucky penny, in fact a danish krone, skipped right to the task and began to work it´s magic (they are magic!) after being pocketed. I had been wallowing. I rarely wallow for long, explode once in a blue moon but wallow rarely and over several days is unheard of. I had been delving into the depths of negativity in my thoughts the past little while. A fair amount of stress combined with pain and extreme tiredness had resulted in a major case of the blues. On this sunny spring afternoon, I could be found developing and refining the dark side of my thoughts. One wrong word or glance turned in my direction and the tears of self-pity welled up in my eyes ready to spill over.
The shiny “lucky penny” lay before my feet.

Now securely resting in the pocket of my blue wool coat, it made me reflect on this thing called luck. It made me reflect on my life. Yes, it got that deep during the performance of my lunchtime errand. The outcome was memories flooding my thoughts with the many good things in my life and in the lives of my family and friends. My mood lightened as I cast a glance at the blue sky and the bright sun and I smiled gingerly. It was working its charm, my lucky coin. I stepped a tad lighter after the sun touched my face with its spring warmth, arguably tentative, however the warmth was not to be mistaken. My errand completed, my walk approached a jauntily performed hop, skip and jump when back to the office I headed. Not many hours later the journey turned toward home. A rare evening on my own with candles flickering, a simple meal of good bread, delicious soft ripened cheese, a glass of wine and my negative thoughts, those dark clouds looming, were very nearly banished from my mind. Gratefully I bid the world a goodnight. The dreams were sweet and my sleep peaceful. My mind was able to rest for the night. Wonderful magic.

The flowers have at long last found the strength of the sun and are blooming in a magnitude of colours. The rays of the golden globe cast long slender shadows as it snakes its way ´round the trees, sneaking through the bushes, shadows dancing in the waning light. The red of the rose becomes darker, the yellow a hue deeper and the white intensifies with the very richness of the light cast in the last hours of the day.
The small inhabitants of this particular patch of grass scurry about – the last grains of supper to be collected and carefully carried back to the warmth of the underground safehouse. The scuttling of the beetles resonates through the darkening undergrowth. Their armour blue and black in the light. The blackbird sings a warning melody from the safety of the top branch of the fir tree. There is danger afoot. Softly, oh so softly it approaches. Stealthily placing one padded step oh so cautiously in front of the other he approaches quietly along with the darkness. The dark stripes in his coat melt with the shadows created by the waning rays of light. The final rays of the sun gently paint golden hues amongst the darker stripes of his fur. He is nowhere to be seen though he is everywhere.The grass shivers as he passes.
The magpie skreetches a final warning and takes flight leaving the garden´s inhabitants to their fate. The field mouse casts a wary eye over the tiny patch of grass at the entrance to his den. All appears to be in order. Although…
Something tells him that there is danger afoot. The garden community will do well to be on guard this night. He retreats to the safety of his warm home and nestles in with his mate. The threat cannot reach them where they are and they sleep secure in that knowledge.
The silent intruder sits perfectly still. He has observed the little brown mouse and in a split second calculated distance and effort. He remains seated. The mouse is spared, for now.
The gentle quiet of the cool night has descended effortlessly over the garden. The flowers have cast their shadows and now simply stand, their vibrant colours dimmed with the darkness.
The threat gently stretches and yawns. The darkness has brought the dew and the perch that previously was so warm and cosy is now cold and damp. Effortlessly the tiger in the garden lands on the soft earth and makes his way silently through the now black grassland. All observations noted for another time, he pads gently past the sleeping field mice. The now silent blackbird cocks his head eyeing the garden tiger as he treads ever so carefully over the threshold and disappears from sight.